Spies, Lies, and Hopefully Nobody Dies
by Harry Potter Fan 1994
Summary: Her mother is the most feared criminal mastermind in Auradon. Mal should be invulnerable. But she's not.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is my last chapter story, requested by xez2003. I'm sorry in advance for being terrible with updates. ****Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Mal entered the casino with a sour taste in her mouth. She was used to the smokey room, the dim lighting, the buzz of people bemoaning their lost money. What she hated was her job for tonight - the thought of seducing of one of her mother's cocaine suppliers, a beer-bellied man with grabby hands, made her physically sick. She would have to hold back the vomit until this deal had been struck.

_I would be so much better at this, _she heard Evie say in her head. It was true. Evie had always been the prettier one, and the one who actually wanted attention for that sort of thing. Mal preferred the violent side of 'agreements' her mother made, and had the skill to show it. All wasted on this creep, who had somehow made himself important enough to not be threatened - and to have the audacity to _not show up on time. _

On one hand, Mal was rather relieved she wouldn't have to pretend to giggle over his every inappropriate joke just yet. But on the other hand, this was only prolonging the inevitable. With a sigh and a resigned expression, she sat down at the bar. A little alcohol in her would certainly make things easier.

"Martini," she bluntly told the unfamiliar bartender. She didn't come here often enough for him to know her usual, as the Neverland Casino ("Where time stands still!") was neutral ground. Even so, Mal had no need to hide - her vividly purple hair was as much identification as any of her enemies needed, but they wouldn't dare come after her unless they wanted to risk the swift, merciless wrath of her mother. She adjusted her short black dress - it was so damn clingy - before hopping on the bar stool and swiveling around to survey the room for disgusting, entitled drug dealers. Three minutes late, the asshole.

The patron next to her left, and was soon replaced by a slightly disheveled young man. "Evening, Lou."

The bartender audibly sighed. "Were you pre-gaming? You're already drunk."

"I'm not. And I didn't drive." It was true, the man's words were slurring a little. Mal glanced over for a quick second, subconsciously noting that he was the exact opposite of the middle-aged, malodorous moron she was waiting for. Late twenties at most, with honey brown hair in disarray and a perfectly tailored suit that only half-hugged his slim figure. It was a little wrinkled - like he no longer cared to keep it pristine once the workday ended at five p.m. He was hunched over the bar, not quite closed off to the world, but close. "Come on, Lou. It's just once a year."

"You're lucky I know you aren't an aggressive drunk," Lou conceded. "But listen...it's been a long time. We all lose people. Doesn't mean we go out binge drinking. It just isn't a good way to remember your friend."

Mal's growing irritation at the tardiness of the dealer was stalled by this exchange. As Lou busied himself finding a bottle of whatever this guy's usual was, she just barely turned her head in his direction and asked as casually as she could, "Are you celebrating something?"

The young man's eyes, blue and warm as the summer sky, flitted towards her. He smiled wanly. "Not quite. But it _is_ an anniversary, I guess." He accepted a neat scotch from Lou. "My best friend died in a car crash a few years ago today. Ran off the road when a deer jumped in front of him. He was such a good guy...he saved the goddamn deer." He swirled the scotch around in his glass. "I say best friend, but he was more like a brother."

"I'm sorry." And she was. Few things touched Mal's stone cold heart after years of abuse and trauma - par for the course, with the family she had. But this was one of them. "What was his name?"

"Doug," came the sad reply.

Mal raised her martini glass. "To Doug, who's definitely in a better place than the screwed up world we're stuck with."

After just a split second of hesitation, his smile became more sincere. He clinked his glass against hers. "To Doug." He then finished off the entire glass in a couple of gulps. Mal raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Thanks, um...what was your name?"

"Evie," she told him. A flicker of something crossed his face, but it was gone too fast for Mal to know what he was thinking.

"Evie. Thanks, Evie. Sorry for the rambling. Just kind of...feels like the world stops moving, you know?" She nodded. "I'm Ben, by the way. I'm...uh...usually more fun at parties."

That earned a well-meaning smirk from Mal - the closest she would get to a smile. "Don't worry about it. Life's not always a party."

"Have you lost someone too?" At the look she gave him, he scrambled to backtrack. "I'm sorry, that was way too personal. You don't have to answer that."

"Like the bartender was saying," she answered after a minute of silence, "we all lose people."

"Yeah...doesn't make it any easier, though." Ben gestured to Lou to refill his drink, and then straightened his shoulders. "Are you here by yourself?"

That irritation spiked again. Fifteen. Damn. Minutes. "I'm not supposed to be, but yes," she all but growled.

Ben fidgeted for a moment, opening and closing his mouth again, before saying, "Look, I'm...more than a little tipsy right now. But if I wasn't, I'd probably be able to find a better way to say that whoever left someone as lovely as you waiting - well, that person's an idiot."

Lovely. It was the first time she'd ever heard anyone use that word. Coming from him, it sort of worked - but he didn't know her at all. She was the farthest thing from lovely. She was the daughter of a devil. "I think that was a good way to say it. Very subtly flirtatious."

"What? Oh, no - I just - ahem - I meant - " he stammered for a few seconds, which Mal quite enjoyed. Genuine distress was one of her favorite things, and this poor man was sweet enough to be _very _distressed. "I promise, I really wasn't trying to hit on you - "

"Why not? Maybe you're right. Maybe my date _is_ an idiot, and I'd be better off ditching him." She rested her chin on her hand, batting her eyelashes. "Maybe I could make your night a little better."

He gave a short, incredulous chuckle, smiling shyly. "I actually have _no doubt _you could make my night better, but, um..." He must have noticed the gleeful sparkle in her eyes. "You're messing with me."

"A little bit."

Ben groaned dramatically. "I should have known. A mysterious, beautiful woman interested in my problems...I'm still not even sure you're real. Maybe I really have had too much to drink and I'm just talking to a hallucination." He called for Lou again. "Obviously the solution to that is to drink more."

"Obviously."

Lou pointedly came over without another drink. "That's enough, Ben. I'm cutting you off before you kill your liver."

"We'll take a couple of glasses of water," Mal suggested, and Lou was more than happy to oblige.

Ben stared rather disdainfully at the glass. "I don't think I want to be any more sober than I am now."

Usually, Mal's every word and action was calculated. Cold. Cunning. Usually she thought before she spoke, so the words came out as threatening or as diplomatic as she felt like being in that moment. But something about him - _it's because he's just like you_, Evie pointed out - made her throw that aside and blurt out, "How long are you here? I'll ditch the date as soon as I can, and then we can leave together. I promise, I'm also not trying to hit on you - but you shouldn't be alone tonight."

Ben's eyes locked with hers, but he seemed more surprised than grateful. Something seemed slightly off, but Mal couldn't quite put her finger on it - _you're right, Evie. He is just like me. A little too much like me._

Those were not the eyes of a drunken man.

As soon as Mal came to this realization, all hell broke loose. A shot was fired somewhere behind her, and people began screaming. Ben grabbed her out of her chair and pushed her to the floor, keeping his torso above hers like a shield. More shots.

"Stay down, Mal." Then he brought the lapel of his suit jacket to his lips. "Red team, status report."

"How do you know my name?!" Mal demanded stupidly. He was a cop. She was...well, her. Obviously he knew her real name. And obviously she didn't know his.

'Ben' ignored her and listened to the voices buzzing through a skin-colored earbud on the side that had been facing away from Mal. He was not drunk. Not even a little. This had all been an ambush. Mal turned her head to where the action was, which confirmed her suspicions. The cocaine dealer had arrived, and upon his arrival had been met with law enforcement. Clearly one of his trigger-happy brutes decided that gunning down the police was a good idea, and now there was a full fledged fire fight in the casino.

_On the bright side_, Evie's voice reasoned as the dealer was shot in the shoulder. Two of his thugs were already in handcuffs. _You don't have to talk to him. _

* * *

The shots died down, and Ben stood up, offering Mal a hand. She scowled at him and got up by herself. The casino was flooded with cops, some tending to their own wounded, some leading prisoners to the cars outside. Quickly, Ben cuffed her and spoke into his lapel mic again. "Finish up with Agent Charming, I'm headed back to HQ." He looked a thousand times more put together than when he had come in - what a difference posture and confidence made. Quite the actor.

Not nearly as apologetic as he should have been, Ben gestured ahead of her. "Shall we?"

_This is what you get for being nice. _That was Maleficent's voice, loud and clear. _You pathetic idiot. _"I hope you rot in hell, you miserable bastard."

"I'll take that as a yes." With one hand on her back, he led her through the bullet-ridden room, outside to a waiting unmarked car. A female officer patted her down and found a couple of knives. Mal's handcuffs were further chained to a larger pair of cuffs - for her ankles, she rightly guessed. He didn't say a word the entire drive, and as much as Mal wanted to taunt him with the fact that he had nothing on her, that she had just been there waiting for a date, she remained stonily silent as well. It was a power play, and one she was not going to lose - for the sake of whatever pride she had left.

Mal had been a frequent visitor at Auradon's police station as a teen. So she knew when they drove past it and made no signs of turning around. She momentarily forgot her power move. "Where are you taking me?" It was just now occurring to her that perhaps Ben wasn't a cop at all. Rival gangs were always recruiting and they'd been ballsy with their initiations in the past, though kidnapping the second-in-command of the Green Dragons would be a step up.

Ben gave her a long look, and then revealed a length of black fabric. Despite her lack of cooperation, he placed it over her eyes and tied it behind her head. "I really am sorry about all of this, Mal."

"Do you really think I care about apologies right now?"

"No, I guess not." Mal heard the driver's side window roll down, and then a beep followed by the sound of a garage door opening. "We're here. I'll answer all of your questions when we're inside."

"Before or after you shoot me in the head?" Ben, however, was done talking.

So in her tiny cocktail dress and chained feet, she shuffled through whatever this place was, her eyes still covered. She could hear the click-clacking of fingers on a keyboard, coming from all around her. Papers shuffling. Heels on the floor - not only hers. A quiet murmur of voices. Certainly not the gun-toting, loose cannon company she had been expecting.

Finally, a door shut behind her and the blindfold came off. She was in an interrogation room, complete with a desk, two chairs, and a two-way mirror. Ben was the only one in the room with her. He had a key, which he used to unlock all of the cuffs, and a file folder bearing a very official-looking seal. Again, he just gestured for her to sit down and took a seat himself. She didn't.

Mal knew better than to attack him right now, just as she had known better than to get herself shot back at the casino. She was weaponless, and though probably stronger than him, she wouldn't make it out of this room without having to contend with all his friends. So she crossed her arms and waited as he opened the folder and spread out the pictures and documents inside.

Some of those pictures looked horribly familiar. He pushed one to what should have been her side of the desk, and looked up at her. "Mal, I'm an agent for Auradon Central Intelligence. And I want to talk to you about Evie."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone, thank you for reviewing the last chapter! I promise in the future I will reply to reviews, I've just been a bit overwhelmed lately. But they mean a lot to me, and really motivated me to work through the difficulties with this chapter. I'm sorry for the long wait for this one. I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

_They were fifteen. Mal and Evie regularly skipped class, and today was no exception. Instead of catching the crowded school bus, they ducked into one of the Green Dragons' empty warehouses. This one wasn't usually full, mostly used for meetings and dealings. Some haphazardly scattered boxes labeled 'olive oil' were the only attempt made to cover up the operation. Cops rarely came to this part of town, for their own safety._

_The building, though, had several nooks for hiding small odds and ends - cheap boxes of wine, for example, or a couple of chipped, hazy wine glasses. Mal and Evie liked to play at 'East Side Rich Snob' (for purely satirical purposes, of course) and donned heavy fake accents, using all of the large words in their limited vocabulary._

_"Well, my son, Ebenezer, is a...voluptuous read-ah," Mal claimed snootily, "and will accept no less than Hah-vahd."_

_Evie could not contain her laughter. "I'm like ninety percent sure that's not what voluptuous means."_

_"What does it mean, then?"_

_Evie made an hourglass shape with her hands in mid-air, before descending into another fit of cackles._

_Once she realized her mistake, Mal mock-scowled. "Like you're always right."_

_"I am, actually."_

_Finishing up the alcohol in her glass, Mal set it back down on the rough floor. "You know, Evie, sometimes I worry that you might actually be smart."_

_"Worry?" Evie snorted incredulously. "Why would you be worried?"_

_"Because smart people go to college, genius. And dumb people like me get stuck here." That thought, one Mal was having more and more often these days, was a sobering one. Her friend noticed the abrupt change in atmosphere and frowned._

_"You're not dumb, M. You could go to college too, if you wanted. You could get out of this place."_

_"Yeah. Like my mom would ever let me leave. I don't think there's anyone she likes to torture and laugh at more than me."_

_Evie shook her head. "It's because she knows you care. She knows you want to impress her, and she knows it hurts more when she insults you. I hate watching that, Mal." She paused for a moment, taking a sip. "What if she didn't know?"_

_"Didn't know you hate watching it?"_

_"No. Didn't know you were trying to get out. You could apply by yourself. Get scholarships. Move out. We could go somewhere together, somewhere far away."_

_Somewhere with mountains, Mal thought to herself. She'd never seen mountains. But out loud she said, "And what complete moron would give me a scholarship? 'Hey, Mal, your grades are shit and you've been in juvie twice, but here, take fifty thousand dollars.'"_

_"Fine, take out loans then. From an actual bank, not from some shark like Jafar."_

_"And that's assuming colleges accept criminals now."_

_"Jesus, M, you could try. If you don't try, you'll never leave. And don't think I won't go without you," Evie said sternly._

_Mal smirked. "You wouldn't go without me."_

_"Shut up, Mal."_

_They did eventually go back to school, because that was the only lunch available to them. After class, Mal walked home alone. Evie, she assumed, had been picked up by her mother. Who loved her. Probably because she was actually good for something - while Mal was reminded daily that she was not._

_"Girl! Get in here."_

_Her shoulders sagged. She had just walked into their rundown home, filled with cheap furniture and devoid of any decoration. Maleficent had never cared much about money or earthly comforts. She delighted in power - the power to make people disappear, to summon someone with the snap of her fingers, to draw answers out of the most stubborn fool who dared oppose her. And god forbid Mal be allowed anything of actual value. It was big enough that they didn't often run into each other, though. When Maleficent wanted to see her, she would demand an appearance. And it was never a happy reunion._

_Mal entered the living room, where Maleficent was shooing away some of her henchmen. The drug queen of Auradon's 'Lost Isle' - a lonely patch of shockingly high crime rates surrounded by the sea of idyllic suburbia - sat on her throne. It was an overstuffed armchair, but Mal had never had permission to use it. She cast her daughter a disdainful glance. "Bring me my bag."_

_The young girl picked up a purse next to her feet and handed it over to Maleficent, who dropped it by her side. "I stole that necklace back from Harry's mom, just like you asked - "_

_"And a piss poor job you did of it, too. She noticed it was gone within the hour. You left everything a mess behind you, didn't you?" Maleficent rolled her eyes. "But this isn't about that. This is about disobedience."_

_Mal felt as though her very existence was considered disobedient by her mother. She could never do anything right, and for Maleficent, that meant she wasn't listening. Any good daughter would be able to read her mother's mind, Mal supposed. "What did I do?"_

_"How many times have I warned you how much trouble attachment brings? How many times have I told you that you can only trust yourself?"_

_Her daughter shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. A lot."_

_"A lot." Maleficent sighed. "And you never understood, stupid little thing that you are. I was doing you a favor, you know. Giving you that lesson for free, without really having to learn it. But you throw it back in my face, time and time again."_

_"I'm...sorry...?" replied Mal, confused._

_"If you were really sorry, you wouldn't do it again. I don't think you know the meaning of the word sorry. And I will teach it to you today." From the purse, she fished out her prized dagger, covered in a real leather sheath. She treated that thing better than her own child. A child she had had no problem with cutting in the past. Mal braced herself. She used to sob and scream when Maleficent taught her these 'lessons' - not anymore. They were never very deep cuts. She could take it._

_But when her mother unsheathed the dagger, it was already stained red with blood. Another hand reached into the bag and brought up a cleaning cloth. Slowly, Maleficent wiped the blade in front of her daughter._

_"Let me give you another piece of advice." She threw the cloth at Mal's feet. "Always know who's listening."_

* * *

A lump formed in Mal's throat when as she gazed upon the crime scene photo - Evie's body splayed on the ground, her throat slashed and her blood pooled around her. Mal thought she had cried herself out about this. Upon finding Evie, her anguish had known no bounds. Her best friend, her only friend in the world. She forced herself to blink back tears, but judging by the look on Ben's face, he'd already seen them.

_I'm always with you, Mal. _Her conscience had taken on Evie's voice in the ensuing months. Comforting and encouraging, the way no one else in her life ever was.

Mal's eyes were drawn to another picture in the folder. It was the same photo, the only photo, that hung in Mal's room; one of her and Evie starting high school, their arms around each other and bright grins on their faces. They'd known even then that they would be running the school within the month. They had _not_ known what horrors awaited them within the year.

And now, those smiling girls looked up at her from under Ben's hand.

Mal felt violated in ways she couldn't describe. It was becoming harder and harder to keep her composure, so Mal redirected. It wasn't difficult. "You asshole. You knew about this, and you played me with some bullshit story about a dead best friend! Do you always sink this low?"

Ben seemed ashamed, but no amount of shame would ever be enough. "You're right." He sighed. "I've read all about you. Jail records, witness statements, phone call transcripts. Everything in here." He closed the thick folder, revealing the embossed ACIA on the cover - Auradon Central Intelligence Agency. In case Mal hadn't been convinced by her surroundings. "The person they described...I wasn't sure she would be moved by this anymore. And I never imagined she would be like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mal wished she hadn't asked that question. She wasn't quite finished cussing him out.

"You loved her," he said quietly. "Like family or romantically, I don't know. But you did." Mal's scowl softened for just a moment before she remembered who he was. "We both know who killed her, Mal. And my goal is to make Maleficent answer for what she's done, to put her behind bars once and for all. But I need your help."

The audacity of this man was beyond her comprehension. "You think, after looking at some pictures and meeting me _once, _that you know me? And after the stunt you pulled, you think I would _help _you?" She snorted. "Unbelievable. No wonder there's so much crime in Auradon, if your top-secret boy scout club is so _incompetent_." She rattled her handcuffs. "Am I under arrest or not?"

"You are not."

"Then let me go."

Ben sighed and stood up. "I know that if you were the cold-blooded killer everyone thinks you are, you wouldn't help me no matter what I say. But you aren't, Mal." He studied her like she was an open book, and she had the sudden urge to hide. "You went out of your way to be kind to a man you'd never even met."

"And look where that got me," she growled. "Let me _go. _Or I'll get a lawyer in here and burn your precious agency to the ground."

Admitting defeat, he opened the door for her and ushered her out. "We'll drop you off at the police station, make it look like you got booked like everyone else. No one has to know you spoke to an agent, or what you said, unless you tell them. It's probably in your best interest not to."

Mal doubted they ever would have brought her here if that hadn't been the case. All the ACIA had to do was drop that file somewhere Maleficent could get to it, maybe leak some footage of Mal speaking to this asshole, and her mother's paranoia would outweigh any assurance of Mal's loyalty.

"I'm sorry, Mal." Ben covered her eyes again with the blindfold and led her back the way they had come. "For what it's worth, I never would have done that if I had known how much she still meant to you."

"Rot in hell."

Ben didn't skip a beat. "I suppose I should mention for completeness that if you change your mind, you can always get in contact with me."

Mal chose not to remind him that he'd never given her any contact information. She was starting to become rather surprised that this idiot could talk and walk at the same time. "I won't."

* * *

She had been processed at the local police station and sent home - they obviously didn't have anything on her for this incident. Mal stomped into her room and dropped onto the pile of blankets she called a bed, still fuming. How had she fallen for something so obvious? Her mother was right, she was so incredibly stupid.

If she had had any doubts about her mother's opinion, they were erased when the door to her room flew open. "You worthless _idiot!_"

Mal knew what was coming, and went limp and stone-faced. Resistance hurt, and any sign of weakness would make her mother even more violent.

Maleficent slapped her, and then before the stinging had subsided she grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and practically threw her across the room. "Do you know how much you cost me?" Mal remained still, a crumpled heap that barely made a sound when Maleficent kicked it. Luckily her shin took the brunt of that blow. "Thirty thousand dollars of cocaine! Confiscated!"

"There was nothing I could've done," Mal mumbled flatly. She didn't know what story Maleficent had gotten, or if it even mattered.

The older woman grabbed Mal's collar and dragged her into a kneeling position. "What did you say to me?"

"There was nothing I - " A punch to the face stopped her. She felt blood running down her chin from a split lip.

"I'm well aware there's nothing you can do correctly." She finally stopped, looking down at Mal with disgust. "Otherwise this never would have happened. You weren't paying attention to your surroundings, were you?"

At this, Mal actually winced. If Maleficent knew the extent to which she had missed warning signs, how easily she'd been sucked in by a pretty face and a sob story..."No, mother."

"Stupid girl. Good for _nothing. _You're like a child. No sense at all. When will you learn?"

"I'm sorry, mother." Even to herself, Mal's voice sounded robotic. Years and years of the same phrases, over and over again...

"I'm still dealing with the fallout. But I'll find a way for you to make up for this. And you're not going to like it - but anything I can come up with is still better than you deserve."

After Mal nodded, Maleficent turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Mal alone to clean herself up. She got to her feet slowly, taking note of every injury. It wasn't too bad. The tiny spot of blood that had dripped onto her dress was barely visible on the black fabric. In her bathroom, she pressed a tissue to her lip until it stopped bleeding and then examined her face in the dirty mirror. The red print of Maleficent's hand was fairly visible on her cheek.

She didn't blame her mother. She never did. Maleficent was just reactionary, an arbiter of karma, a dealer of sentences. No, this was all that son of a bitch's fault. Ben. Whatever his real name was. As she changed into something more comfortable, Mal fantasized about all the ways she'd kill Ben slowly. It was an enjoyable exercise, even though she knew better than to bring the wrath of the ACIA down on her and the Green Dragons. She toyed with the notion of telling her mother everything, siccing the Green Dragons on him, making his life a living hell. These short term rewards, though, would prove harmful to her in the long run. After they'd dealt with Ben, the Green Dragons would come for _her._

Laying down in her bed, Mal gazed at the familiar picture on her wall. Maleficent had allowed Mal to keep this photograph, probably knowing that every time she looked at it, it would break her all over again. That broken husk of a person was exactly what Maleficent had been looking for - someone she could mold and use as she saw fit. And Mal had just let it happen. What was the point of resisting, after all? Her existence was a punishment, with loneliness as her only companion. She'd never had another friend, to spare herself the pain of something like this happening again. She'd never left her mother's side. She'd gone numb to all emotion except anger. She was a Green Dragon enforcer, an assassin. A cold-blooded killer.

_If you were the cold-blooded killer everyone thinks you are_...This man knew everything about her. He'd found out things even her mother didn't know, that even _Mal_ didn't know about herself. She'd lived the life of a puppet, of a shadow, and yet he knew. For a moment, he'd gotten her to care - a feeling so unfamiliar she hadn't realized how dangerous it was.

_Never again, _Mal thought to herself. _I'm never going to be manipulated again._

Somehow, Evie's eyes in the photo had turned accusatory. _Your mother used me to manipulate you. He's giving you a chance to make that right. Are you just going to let that go?_

* * *

Carlos let out a low whistle at the sight of Mal's face. "So you were the one that screwed up the deal yesterday."

Mal grabbed him by the collar and growled, "I did _not _screw anything up!" She only let go when he raised his hands in surrender. "Just take me to the snitch."

"We _think _he's the snitch," Carlos corrected, a little nervously. He was just a kid, not even old enough to drink. Legally. "You're not going to kill him, are you?"

She checked her holster, and then her pockets. "I left my knife in my purse from yesterday. Hold on a second." The blade would be necessary. Mal needed answers, and she didn't care how she got them.

The clutch she'd taken to the casino had been thrown unceremoniously on the floor. When she opened it, a square napkin with the Neverland Casino logo fluttered out. Curiously, Mal picked it up, only to throw it down again in disgust. On it was written: _Ben, 454-555-0903._

_Don't let your mother find it, _Evie's voice warned her. Mal glanced at the photograph, and then picked up the tissue. Yes, it only looked like some random person's number that she'd gotten at the bar - but even the chance that she had been picking up guys instead of being vigilant would send Maleficent into a frenzy.

She pocketed it, along with her favorite knife, and returned to where Carlos was waiting. "Go."

The young man led her through the familiar slums, jumping over trash in the street and dodging rats as they scurried out of gutters. It had always amazed Mal that this world, her world, could coexist with the gargantuan skyscrapers that swept up from the horizon line. That was Auradon proper, where the richest of the rich lived. Gleaming and pristine. Mal had only visited once or twice - Maleficent did not care much for money, but she did have a thing for large jewels. Only one jeweler in that entire area would do business with someone who so clearly did not belong and carried a suspicious amount of cash. They'd never stolen anything, though. Police were far more numerous and effective there, and it was hardly worth it when the upper class handed money freely in exchange for drugs.

They came to a three-story building and ended their trek at an apartment on the first floor. Mal knocked.

The anxious, jittery man who opened the door seemed to know almost immediately what this was about. "I didn't talk! I swear!"

Mal pushed him further inside and entered, locking the door behind her and Carlos. The unfortunate tenant's fear was written all over his face.

"It was _Gil!_ I was with him, but it was _him!_ He talks to everyone, you know his head isn't on right - "

"And who told _Gil_, Junior?" Mal shoved him harder, until he stumbled into his living room. "You know better than to talk around your brother."

"How was I supposed to know he would go blabbing to a copper? He's never talked to police in his _life_, Mal!"

"That's. Because. No. One. Tells. Him. Things." Each of her words was punctuated with a slap - forehand, backhand, forehand, backhand. Mal lifted him under the arms and deposited him on a moth-eaten sofa before pulling out her blade. If possible, Junior's eyes stretched wider.

"Don't do this, Mal. I won't do it again, it was stupid and I know that - Mal, please!"

Carlos pretended to be taking interest in the tacky decorations around him while Mal went to work on the wailing man. When she had finished, Junior was a whimpering, sobbing heap on the chair. But still alive.

There was a knock at the door. Carlos and Mal exchanged looks, and Mal gestured at him to remain with Junior. Keeping a hand on her pistol, she edged towards the door and opened it.

A large young man stood on the other side. He smiled brightly. "Hi, Mal!"

"Gil," she groaned. "Come in."

He did so, his face falling when he saw his brother. "Oh no."

"This is your fault!" Junior screamed, jumping up and running at Gil with a bloody fist. Mal intervened, knocking him out with a single punch. He crumpled to the floor.

"Sit down, Gil."

He sat where his brother had been, unfazed by the fresh blood on the seat. "What's going on?"

"Who did you talk to about the deal that was supposed to happen yesterday, Gil?"

"Oh." He screwed his face up in thought. "There was a really nice old man. He bought me a hot dog. Then we started talking about where I lived. And my brothers. And what they did. And he asked me if I knew where to buy cocaine. And I said there was a guy who would be at Neverland Casino he could buy from." Worried, he paused. "Am I in trouble?"

"Yes, Gil. A lot of trouble." Mal pulled out her phone and texted her mom. **Gil talked.**

"Should I not have told him anything? He bought me a Coke, too."

"No, Gil. No one should have told _you_ anything. And you know better than to let people talk business around you. Right?"

"Right. Except Junior was talking on the phone and I was doing a puzzle, and he wouldn't leave the room, and I was almost done. So that's why I heard it," Gil explained with a shrug.

Mal's phone beeped. **Order 3. **Code for "kill him." Mal stared at the message, hesitant. At the most, she thought she'd bash Gil around a bit, remind him how things ran around here. Apparently Maleficent's patience for the mentally delayed man had run out. He was a liability, Mal agreed, but it wasn't his fault. He was like a kid. She was being asked to kill a kid.

Carlos reached down to pick something up. The napkin had fallen out of her pocket when she had grabbed her phone. "Hot date, Mal?"

She snatched it back from him, scowling. "Go home Carlos. Gil, get up. You're coming with me." To her mother, she texted only one word. **Done.**

* * *

"Nice to meet you, Gil. I'm Agent Kingsley." Ben held out his hand, and Gil shook it a little too vigorously. "Got quite a handshake there."

"Yeah! My dad says I'm as strong as an ox. And as dumb as an ox. So I guess I'm just an ox," Gil told him matter-of-factly.

Ben glanced at Mal with an eyebrow raised, and then to Gil, said, "This is Agent Li. She's going to take you to a new place. Okay? I hear they have a dog."

"A PUPPY?!" Gil's excitement knew no bounds. "I've always wanted a puppy! My brother says I'd kill it by accident. But I wouldn't. Honest."

"I believe you." He waved over a woman with straight dark hair and sunglasses, who had previously been clearing the seat of the car that would take Gil away. "Why don't you two get acquainted? It's going to be a bit of a drive."

Gil chattered away, chipper as always, and Agent Li took it in stride as she walked him to the car. Ben stayed behind. "You did a good thing, Mal. Calling me."

"You owed me," Mal responded uncomfortably. This was a cop she was asking a favor from. More than a cop. In his impeccable three-piece suit and perfectly styled hair, he looked every bit the high-ranking federal agent that he was. Maleficent would turn inside out if she found out about this.

"Still do. I don't consider this to be 'making it up to you'. This is just...whoever he talked to should never have sent him home."

Surprised, Mal said, "It wasn't you?"

"No. We acted on the tip, but I didn't seek Gil out. I wouldn't have let him go back considering how much danger that would put him in once the whole thing went sideways." They watched the car pull away. "Although, I'm not sure how I'd explain to him that he had to leave his home forever. How did you do it?"

"Told him his dad and brothers didn't want him around anymore."

"Mal!" Ben's eyebrows flew up, and his hands came out of his pockets to emphasize his opinion. "You can't say that to him! That must've traumatized him!"

"It's no worse than what he gets from them," she defended. "You think they're a loving family? His older brother nearly killed him _today _for all of this. I'm constantly surprised he survived this long."

Ben didn't take her eyes off her, studying her just like he had the day before. It almost made Mal squirm, but then she realized what he was looking at. "You're very good at covering those up," he noted, gesturing at his own face. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Are we done here?"

"Did your mother do that?" He was working himself up. "Is she still abusing you? Even now?"

"Shut up. Just shut up." Mal never thought about it in front of other people. Show no weakness. But he reached out just as she started walking away, and she flinched. For a moment there was pain in his wide, blue eyes - whether he thought Mal was afraid of him, or whether he was hurting for her, she didn't know. "Don't _ever _touch me!"

"We can keep you safe," he insisted. "You don't have to keep living like this. You could get out of this place."

_You're not dumb, M. You could get out of this place._

Ben seemed to know how to push all of her buttons at the exact same time without actually knowing he was doing it. "You're about ten years too late."

"I know." He stepped closer. "I know we are, Mal. We failed you. The system failed you. Failed every child who had to grow up in this hellhole. I want to make it right as best I can, Mal. I really do."

He sounded as earnest as Gil. Mal knew she would have to learn his tells. She sighed and said, "I don't even know your real name."

He smiled. "Yes you do. It's Ben."

"You gave me your real name last night?"

"It's a pretty common name."

She thought back to when she had introduced him to Gil, and remained skeptical. "You expect me to believe your name is really Ben Kingsley?"

Making him grimace like that was a lot of fun for her. "I was named before my parents knew he was a thing. I've heard all the jokes. If you can come up with a new one, I'll be really impressed." The smile was back. Mal really hated how handsome he looked when he smiled. And how handsome he looked all the goddamn time. "So does that mean we'll be talking again?"

"We'll see." She poked a finger to his chest. "But if you _ever_ con me again, I will hand you over to my mother on a silver platter. Or kill you myself. Don't make me decide."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for the continued support! I do have one request. I kind of hate the title but couldn't come up with something better. Now that you know the premise of the story, do you have any suggestions?**

* * *

Another blindfolded drive later and Mal was back at ACIA headquarters. This time she had been allowed to see more than one tiny interrogation room. She was led past heavily guarded turnstiles, where Ben scanned his ID and they both walked through metal detectors. Because Mal had very reluctantly left her weapons behind, the detectors did not alarm.

An open atrium with high-vaulted ceilings branched off into five or six hallways. Everywhere she looked, Mal saw harried people in prim suits hurrying to and fro, discussing things in hushed tones, disappearing into the offices that lined the hallways. Several of them greeted Ben, gave her a once-over, and continued on their way.

Ben pulled her into an office with absurdly large windows - for such a secretive organization, at least - looking back out onto the adjacent hallway. He sat behind a neat desk and gestured for her to sit across from him, then grabbed a binder from a locked file cabinet behind him.

This one was full of mug shots. Familiar mug shots. "These are all the Green Dragons we have on file. A lot of the information on them is piecemeal at best, but I've been trying to fill in the missing portions." Mal flipped through the binder, taking in the names and faces. Her mother. Herself. Ursula. Gaston. The Captain. Anastasia. Drizella. Harry. Jay. Uma. Gil. Junior. Jafar. Cruella. There were a few core people missing, as well as several peripheral sellers and partners, but it was pretty impressive.

"So, what? You want me to write down all of their addresses?"

Ben smiled. "No. I'd like you to get me in."

"Get you...in." Mal leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "You want to go undercover."

"Is that something you'd help me with?"

She snorted. "Do I have a choice?"

"Yes, actually." Ben leaned forward, serious now. "I want to make one thing very clear, Mal. I'm not interested in putting your life in danger. If at any point - no matter what's happening - you decide you want out, then you're out. No questions asked."

Mal was a little taken aback by his intensity. When he was being sincere, she noticed, those blue eyes seemed a little more vivid, almost electric. "How can you just let me do that? Won't it ruin all your plans?"

"It'll set them back a few years, sure, but we've got safeguards in place so nothing's 'ruined', per se. What matters is that you know your mother best, and if you think she's caught wind of you breaking ranks, you'll need to get out. I'd rather you tell me that you're done, so I don't find out in the middle of an op and lose a lot of good men - or find out when you turn up dead."

"I guess that's fair," Mal murmured. It was more than fair. Any other cop would have blackmailed her into continuing the charade. Though who knew, he still might - all this could be an empty promise. "I assume that if I double-cross you I get arrested, but if I don't...?"

"We're offering you immunity." He set a piece of paper in front of her, on which the terms of their new working relationship were outlined. It was a lot of legalese a high school drop-out like Mal had no hope of understanding. But Ben knew that. "The immunity isn't contingent on your mother's conviction. It's for helping us at all. Even if everything falls through - and of course, barring any future criminal activity that isn't required for the investigation."

She had to trust that was what it actually said, and Mal wasn't big on trust. Especially not with this guy. She struggled through the paragraphs while he looked on silently. Then she shook her head. "I can't sign this. Who's to say you aren't screwing me over with some loophole?"

"You don't have to sign it. I will." He did so. "You need to save a picture of it, or a copy of it, somewhere. It's for your protection, in case I die or am otherwise incapacitated - that way the ACIA still knows what we owe you."

"Oh." That little piece of paper was all that stood between her past and a lifetime in jail. It seemed inadequate. "So what if - "

Behind her, there was a knock on the glass door. An imposing, middle-aged man with thick-rimmed glasses entered. He was, of course, wearing yet another expensive suit. Ben stood up to greet him. "Mal, this is the ACIA's Director. Director, this is Mal."

The Director held out a hand for her to shake, but his suspicious look was not lost on her. "Pleasure to meet you. I asked Agent Kingsley to allow me to speak with you for a few minutes." He sat down in Ben's chair. Mal only realized how relaxed she had been with Ben now that this new man was staring down at her. "Before we begin, I want you to understand that it is my responsibility to ensure the safety of my operatives first, and the success of my operations second. Therein lie the root of my questions. First, I need to know your weaknesses and what can be used against you. You have a mother, living. Any other family?"

Mal glanced at Ben, who was barely hiding what he thought about this interrogation. He shrugged helplessly. "Not that I know of."

"Father?"

"Don't know who or where he is."

"Friends?"

"No." Ben coughed pointedly behind her, but the Director ignored him.

"Children?"

"No."

"Any addictions? Drugs, gambling, drinking?" The questions were coming so fast, she was sure he did this regularly.

"No."

"Debts?"

"Currently thirty thousand dollars in the hole, thanks to you guys interrupting our deal the other night. Otherwise, no."

"Romantic partners?"

"No. How is any of this your business?"

"Because," the Director explained slowly, as if she were a child, "if any of these things are held over your head, it endangers my people. That being said, we can provide protection for people you care for. But you already knew that. We took care of your friend Gil."

"Not my friend," Mal corrected. "He's a...whatever you guys call them nowadays. He's slow. But I don't care about him. I don't care about anyone."

The Director let that bold claim hang in the air between them for a second. "So you're telling me there's no way of getting to you. No one or nothing that means something to you, that you can be threatened with."

She eyed him coldly. "Did I stutter?"

He exchanged looks with Ben. "I'm going to have a word with Agent Kingsley. Wait here, please. We won't be more than a few minutes."

Mal had a good idea of what that conversation would be about. The Director had said as much with his body language before he and Ben left the room. _How can you trust this monster? _She refused to turn around and watch them arguing in the hallway, choosing instead to flip through Ben's binder on the Green Dragons some more. Jesus. They even had records on Carlos. He was only a small-time dealer at his school. A kid. Already the law had decided he was on the wrong side.

The law had decided that about her the minute she'd been born, Mal reminded herself. Her first stint in juvie had been littered with the phrase "like mother, like daughter," but she'd been hearing that her entire life. Only one person had ever given her a chance to be something other than Maleficent's spawn. Two, she supposed, if Ben was at all genuine. Judging by the Director's reaction, he would not be joining that club.

Ben returned, smiling as placidly as always. "I think that went well."

"He doesn't want you doing this," Mal countered.

"No he doesn't. But in the end, he knows this is the best way to get Maleficent. He'll approve it, however reluctantly. I'm not worried about that." He turned his gaze on her. "What about you? I assumed you knew the ACIA wasn't going to welcome you with open arms. But maybe it's worse than you thought. Does that change things?"

Mal replaced the binder on the desk, open to the last page. A police report from when Evie had stolen a few hundred dollars worth of makeup from a high-end store to the north of the Isle. Her best friend's face stared up at her from the mugshot, looking as glamorous as a supermodel largely thanks to the crime she had committed. "You say this is the best way to get Maleficent. The best way to get justice for Evie. As long has that hasn't changed, my mind hasn't either."

* * *

The heavy bass blasted through the club's speakers, the volume just below that which would render any hope of conversation obsolete. People communicated in short shouts or gestures, though even those were a bit difficult to interpret in the flashing strobe lights. Mal lounged on one of the ratty couches in what passed as this joint's 'VIP' section, with Ben sitting beside her. He looked ridiculous, as far as Mal was concerned, but he had been inexplicably excited about wearing the beanie that was currently perched on his head. "I never get to dress like this," he'd told her. Ripped jeans, a tattered leather jacket, and - of all things - fingerless gloves. Mal had told him he looked ready to train some Pokemon, which got a laugh out of him. But at least he could pass as the rich collegiate 'rebel' he was supposed to be. For her part, her only new accessory was the burner phone Ben had given her. She used them all the time, and while Maleficent did go through her phones often, hopefully after today this new one would not be suspicious.

"That's the Doctor. Real name Facilier. And he's not a doctor," Mal told Ben as the object of their discussion entered the dimly lit nightclub.

"So why call him the Doctor?"

"He takes care of accounts. Doctors the books. Also has a penchant for scalpels, so try not to startle him." She spared the entrance another glance to see who followed Facilier. "And that's Shan Yu. Real quiet guy. Not sure he speaks English. But he snaps necks like twigs."

"That's...nice." He took a sip of seltzer water - his drink of choice, as it turned out, while on the job. "Have they ever been arrested?"

"Facilier lets other people do his dirty work. And Shan Yu's new, just showed up last - oh no."

Harry Hook wasn't supposed to be at this meeting. He was impulsive, and stupid, and full of himself, and nowhere near the kind of person Maleficent would invite to her inner circle. But it was a Friday night, and this lowlife had nowhere else to be except the Isle's shittiest club. And now he had spotted Mal.

Ben tried to voice concern for her sudden alarm - she shushed him. "Let me do the talking. Don't say a word."

"New fling, eh, Mal?" Harry's thick Scottish accent covered every word like syrup. The cocky young man looked over Ben with disdain. "Seems a bit of a pansy."

"Guess I have a type," Mal drawled, outwardly calm though her sharp eyes didn't miss a single one of his movements. "What do you want, Harry?"

"The real question, Mal, is what _ye _want." He came so close to her that his legs knocked together with her knees, and leaned over to rest one of his hands on the couch on either side of her head. "And the answer, I reckon, is a _real _man."

In a flash, Mal had swept her leg through both of his and he collapsed, partly on her lap. She pushed him off and, without getting up, pressed a foot to his throat. Ben exclaimed in protest, but she silenced him with a look. It was her turn to lean over Harry, her eyes narrowed. "If you see a real man, let me know. Until then, stay the hell away from me."

Harry laughed, though the sound was quickly cut off but Mal digging the toe of her shoe into his trachea. He shoved her leg off of him, rubbing at the imprint her sole had left on his skin. "Can't pretend we've no done that before."

"Shut up." She was getting really irritated now. "It was one time. Years ago. You need to stop pretending we have _anything _going on."

"An' ye need tae stop bringin' in randos off the street just tae get me riled up. I mean, it works a charm, but - "

Mal stood up. Her hand floated to her back pocket. "Do you ever want kids, Harry?"

"With ye, darlin'?" He flashed a grin.

"No." She pulled out a dagger. "I mean in general."

At least he knew enough to take this threat seriously. The blood drained out of his face, and he mumbled at Ben - "She'll drop ye like a drawbridge tae, just ye wait." Then he turned on his heel, heading in the general direction of anywhere-the-hell-else.

"Seems like a nice guy," Ben remarked. "How did he already know our 'history'?"

"He didn't. He assumes that I'm sleeping with every guy he sees me with." Mal flopped back onto the couch, twirling her dagger between her fingers. "He wasn't invited to this meeting. I didn't think we'd have to deal with him today."

"I'm sorry you have to deal with him at all." Mal shrugged. "If he really cared about you, he would respect your boundaries."

She scoffed. "He doesn't care about me. No one here cares about anyone else. It's all about what other people can do for you."

"If you're just looking to survive, that makes sense," Ben considered. His shoulders sagged a little, and when he spoke again his voice was quiet and subdued. "But that's the worst kind of place to be in when you've lost someone you loved. There's nothing to fall back on, is there? No one to catch you."

What on Earth was he doing, talking about this in public? Granted, he hadn't mentioned any names, but by this point he knew what the thought of Evie did to Mal. And worse, his eyes had locked with hers again, and she couldn't look away. All those feelings swirled up - the pain, the anger, the guilt - but instead of overwhelming her, the vulnerability gave way to a strange sort of comfort. She already knew he wouldn't punish her for feeling this way, but neither was he pitying her. He was telling her _let me share that grief with you, so you don't have to feel all of it, all the time._

But that couldn't possibly be what was happening, because he was a stranger. He was using her, just as she was using him, just as everyone in this building was using everyone else. He had no reason to care, either. Before Mal could use that dose of reality to force herself to look away, Ben broke eye contact and tensed. "She's here."

Maleficent, in all her imposing glory. It occurred to Mal that this was the first time Ben had seen her in person. There was something about her - kind of an aura of evil - that just couldn't be captured in a photograph. Maleficent had a posture that would have made a drill sergeant proud, and always seemed to be looking down on others no matter their height. Mal could have sworn she'd seen plants wilt after her mother had walked by them. Even Ben, who until this point had been nothing but pleasant, tightened his jaw and clenched his fists.

Mal's heart was racing. She was already on edge whenever her mother was near, but now, she intended to actively deceive the most dangerous woman she'd ever known. Part of her brain screamed at her to abandon this whole charade and hand Ben over - the part of her brain that always obeyed her mother, no matter what. The part of her brain that knew the consequences of treachery and betrayal. The part of her brain that had never grown past the heartbreak of seeing her best friend's blood on cold, hard concrete.

But the other part of her brain, the part that sounded a lot like Evie, told her to stand up. To signal Ben that he should wait. To make her face a mask, like she had countless times before. To walk over to her mother before the meeting started. "Did Gaston talk to you about Gil?"

"Said he was happy to be rid of the burden. He won't retaliate," said Maleficent. "I still want you to keep an eye on him, and on his other kids." She looked back at where Mal had come from and groaned. "What is this? You bring your boytoys here now?"

"Only if they want to start selling. And he's at Auradon University - can't get a bigger market than that."

"Where did you meet him? When?" her mother demanded.

"At a bar a couple months ago. Slept with him a few times." It was common knowledge that Auradonian cops would not prostitute themselves while undercover - Maleficent herself had taught Mal this. "Last time he said his parents were cutting him off since he's been partying through college for six years. He's a moron, but he can be discreet."

"How much of a moron?" Maleficent waved him over. "Being a small time dealer isn't going to replace the money for the life he's clearly used to living."

"I'm pretty sure we can get a year or two out of him before he figures that out. He'll definitely bring in the thirty thousand I lost last week before he's done. And after that, he's disposable."

Ben beamed widely as he approached and held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Ben. Nice to meet you." Maleficent glared at him until he awkwardly let his hand drop. "Uh...I'm, uh...looking to be a...distributor."

"A distributor," Maleficent repeated, her voice laced with scorn. She turned to Mal. "You think this idiot can sell thirty thousand dollars worth of _anything_?"

"No, yeah, I definitely can. I've sold Ritalin before," Ben told her. "And a bunch of my buddies are in frats. They party every weekend."

"I think it's a lot of untapped potential. So I can, you know, help. To make the money up to you," Mal added. She knew she was right on the border of laying it on too thick, and her palpitations worsened while Maleficent thought about it.

Finally, "If this project of yours takes you away from any of the duties I expect from you," she warned Mal, "there will be hell to pay."

"I know. I won't let that happen." The quiver in her voice was very real, and Maleficent knew her threat had landed. She left for the back room, and Mal let out a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" Ben put a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately shrugged off.

"I'm fine. And I have to sit in on this meeting. You should leave." Even she heard the flatness in her tone. Sometimes the mask was hard to take off.

"Yeah, okay." She was about to tear into him for the doubt and worry written all over his face - like he knew what she could handle and what she couldn't! - but then he stepped closer and murmured into her ear, as softly as the music would allow so no one else would hear, "Thank you, Mal. I know this can't be easy for you. And it would've taken me months to get to this point without you."

"Um - " She didn't often need to respond to gratitude in the Isle, and was at a loss for words.

Ben didn't wait for an answer. "I'll text you," he told her at full volume after pulling back. Then he smiled and walked out, leaving her with the humiliating realization that for the second time that day, he'd disarmed her to an alarming degree._ It doesn't matter. You're not even doing this for him. You're doing this for me, _Evie reminded her. _We don't need his thanks. We don't need his sympathy. We just need him to do his job._


	4. Chapter 4

**Another long wait! Even I was frustrated with myself for this one. But stuff happens! Thank you to DemonFoxBK201 for the idea!**

* * *

_"This is crazy," Mal muttered, shaking her head. "We can't do this."_

_"Why not?" Evie had a sparkle in her eye that made Mal rather wary. "We're different from the rest of the kids here, Mal. Better. About time they knew it."_

_"What's my mom going to say?" hissed the other girl._

_"You think she'll care?" Evie bit her lip at Mal's crestfallen expression. "Sorry. I just meant that I don't think she'll say anything."_

_"Who knows." Mal looked up at the hand-painted sign on the shop in front of them. 'Curl Up and Dye'. "Maybe she will care, for once."_

_The two girls entered to see a single woman sweeping up a mess of hair, only peripherally watching a baby that was crawling around on the floor. The salon was otherwise empty. Upon their entrance, the baby stared at them for a few seconds before seeking the familiar presence of her mother. Drizella, stylist and mother, picked up her daughter and came to the register. "What do you girls want?"_

_"We're getting our hair dyed," Evie informed her with barely contained excitement._

_Drizella raised an eyebrow. "Full head?" They nodded. "Well, your hair is already nice and light," she told Mal before turning to Evie, "but you're going to need some bleaching. So it's $25 for Mal and $40 for you."_

_Mal narrowed her eyes the way her mother would when she wanted to be even more intimidating. "Don't be stupid, Drizella." She glanced over at the baby girl, who was sucking on her thumb without a care in the world. "What's her name?"_

_The stylist tightened her hold on her daughter, a flash of fear crossing her face. "Dizzy."_

_"Dizzy," Mal cooed, getting the girl's attention. "Tell your mother not to be stupid."_

_"Bah!" exclaimed the baby._

_Drizella swallowed. "I can bring it down to..."_

_"$20 each?"_

_"Yeah, $20 each."_

_As Drizella left to put the baby down and get the color, Evie whispered, "Did you just threaten a baby?"_

_"I wasn't actually going to hurt her," Mal defended. "...But Drizella doesn't know that."_

_"The power is going to your head." Mal shoved her friend, who laughed. "Relax. It's probably a good thing. You've got to be just like your mother eventually, right? Take over the family business?"_

_"Exactly." She sat down in one of the chairs like it was a throne. "And when I'm in charge, we're going to live like queens, Evie. We'll buy whatever we can't take and no one's going to tell us that we don't deserve it."_

_The next day at school, innumerable heads turned to see the new purple- and blue-haired best friends. All the attention was on them. For the first time in her life, Evie told Mal, she actually felt like royalty._

* * *

"Seriously?"

Ben had shown up in a royal blue sweater with the words AURADON UNIVERSITY emblazoned on the front in college-style print. He grinned. "It's actually mine, from when I went there for undergrad. I didn't buy it just for this."

"I'd hope not. My tax dollars should go towards a better wardrobe."

Surprised, Ben asked, "You pay taxes?"

She paused. "Enough chit-chat. Let's just pick up the bags and get out of here."

Ben had ventured into Mal's territory, the Isle itself, as part of his initiation. He was here to pick up approximately three hundred dollars worth of marijuana - not a terrible loss if he turned out to be a crappy dealer, but certainly enough to sign his death warrant if he ran off with it. Naturally none of this was going to the AU campus - it would be stored in an evidence locker at ACIA HQ. But no one else needed to know that.

He seemed rather impressed by the storage facility. And it was well-deserved - Maleficent was nothing if not efficient. Shelves of heavy, locked boxes lined the walls, each one labeled as though they were books sorted by the Dewey Decimal System. Only Maleficent's inner circle knew what all the codes meant, and subordinates could easily find the box meant for them by the number and key they'd been given.

"Why are those refrigerated?" Ben whispered to her, pointing to a set of industrial sized fridges in a corner. There were other people in the large warehouse, but it was rather silent and he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself.

"Black market insulin," Mal explained. "Really profitable nowadays."

"I bet it is."

They came to their shelf, number 23, but unfortunately someone was waiting for them.

Mal groaned. "What are you doing here?"

Harry Hook leaned against the shelf, crossing his arms. "Askin' the right questions, it seems. I looked into yer pretty little lad - " He jutted his chin at Ben but otherwise refused to acknowledge him. " - An' no one I know at AU has ever heard of him. Plus, what's a spoiled brat from the north side doin' down here, when he could get the same deal from some other kiddo already sellin' on campus? What's he need this whole operation for? Ever asked him?" He shook his head. "He smells, Mal."

"I'd like you to refrain from smelling me in the future, please," Ben requested politely. Mal snickered.

Harry did not find this as funny, and glared coldly at Ben for the first time. "_Bullshit. _Yer story smells like bullshit, _laddie_." He straightened and puffed out his chest, readying himself to get in Ben's face. "An' ye ain't got all of us buyin' it."

Mal came between them, though Ben didn't look particularly scared. "Are you calling me stupid, Harry?"

That took him aback a little. "What?"

"It sounds like you're calling me stupid," she continued casually. "Like you think this guy, a borderline alcoholic who's been partying for six years and has lived off mommy and daddy's money his whole life - like you think _this _guy could outsmart me."

"That's no what I'm sayin', love - "

"That's what it sounds like to me." Her voice had turned to ice. "I get that you're jealous. I don't care. Be as obnoxious as you want. But when you start interfering with _my _projects and threaten the money _I _need to bring in, we have a problem." She narrowed her eyes. "Understand?"

"But he could be - "

Mal grabbed him by the collar and roughly pushed him up against the wall. "Call me stupid one more time, Harry." He gaped at her, but said nothing. Shoving him towards the door they had entered through, she ordered, "Get out of here before I break another one of your fingers."

Huffing, Harry shot one last disdainful look at Ben before leaving.

"Thanks." Ben watched him go intently. "_Another_ one of his fingers?"

"He told me he was stronger than me once when we were teens. He probably is, but he's shit at fighting." They couldn't talk about what they really needed to talk about. Not here.

But Mal couldn't wait until they were back at HQ. From the moment Harry had said anything, her heart had been pounding. _He knows. He knows everything,_ Evie screamed. _And he's going to take it straight to your mother. You're finished._

As they were walking out of the Isle (she'd advised Ben not to bring a car unless he felt like donating all four of the tires) Mal pulled him into a tiny alleyway and scanned their surroundings to make sure no one was listening. "What are we going to do?" she whispered furiously.

From the street, they heard the laughter and shouts of children exiting a departing school bus. There was only one bus stop for the Isle, right on the fringe of the borough. Bus drivers refused to stop any further inside. As a result, the first of about twenty kids started to pass the alley that Ben and Mal had hidden in, some of them pointing, giggling, and making kissy faces.

Ben closed the space between the two of them, resting his hands on her shoulders before starting to run his fingers up and down the back of her arms. Mal knew why he was doing this - they looked for all the world like two lovers having an intimate conversation and not like a federal agent and his CI plotting the downfall of Auradon's most notorious criminal, in case the kids tried to listen in or said anything to their parents. It was part of their cover story after all. Still, his actions had taken her by surprise, which was the only explanation for the further quickening of her heartbeat. His cheek brushed against hers as he whispered, "How much does your mother value Harry's opinion?"

The caress on her skin felt _so _nice. Mal couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her like that. "Not very." Her voice was practically soundless, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Not at all." His hands stopped moving for a second when her breath reached his neck.

"Jesus, how many of them are there?" They both looked to where the alley opened onto the street. A few straggling kids were taking their sweet time walking by, showing their friends something from their backpacks or playing games on outdated cell phones. Ben turned back to her, biting his lip in a way that made it difficult for Mal to look anywhere else. "We'll just have to keep an eye on him, then. That's all we can do."

As the last of the schoolchildren's chatter died down, Ben moved back to give her space and Mal felt like she could breathe again. Not that she couldn't breathe before, but there had been a very enticing cologne that insisted on going straight to her head. No wonder Harry had been smelling him.

"Sorry," Ben said, not quite catching her eye. "I just didn't want - "

"I know. I get it."

There was a slightly awkward silence between them that might have gone on longer, if they hadn't heard the scream. A scream that sounded a lot like a terrified young girl.

In the millisecond that it had taken to exchange looks of alarm, both Ben and Mal had already started sprinting towards the sound, following the path of the kids. The screams became muffled, but by that point the two of them were close enough that they could still hear. They came to a screeching halt in front of another dingy alley, just in time to see an older man rip the clothes of a young girl. Dizzy.

Before they were noticed, Ben had the man in a choke hold. Mal grabbed Dizzy, who was crying and bleeding from her mouth. "Run," she commanded. Dizzy wasted no time and fled. Then Mal turned to the predator in Ben's grip.

The man was struggling and kicking his feet, clawing at Ben's arm. Still, Ben held on with a vice-like grip. "Call the police," instructed Ben.

Mal would have laughed, had the situation been less horrific. "There are no police." Her dagger came out, flashing for a moment in the dim light before Mal drove it in between the man's ribs.

"Mal!" Ben cried, though it was drowned out by the scum's screams. He let go, presumably to deliver first aid, but that was exactly what Mal wanted. The rapist fell to the ground and Mal on top of him, punching again and again, every blow landing on his face. "Mal, STOP!"

Ben pulled Mal back, but the man was already unconscious. Almost dead. But almost wasn't good enough. "Let go of me!"

"No, Mal, we're going to take him to a police station!"

She yanked herself out of his arms, but he was ready for that and tackled her to the ground. Mal rolled out from under him, only to find herself in a hold following the capture of a free wrist she hadn't been paying attention to. In that moment she realized two things: one, that Ben was much better trained than she was, and two, that he was actively trying not to hit her.

So she went on the offensive, kneeing him in the stomach. In what was probably a smart move, it seemed he had expected that too and wasn't quite as breathless and agonized as he should have been. It did get him to release her wrist, though, and her bloodied knuckles went flying towards him. He dodged as well as he could while they tussled on the ground, but his decision to stay on the defensive had put him at a distinct disadvantage. Mal straddled his torso so she could use the full weight of her body in her assault, but even then Ben blocked her punches. "Mal, please! I don't want to hurt you!"

"I know," she growled, "So stay out of my way!"

"I can't let you do this!"

She did get one glancing blow off his chin, but at the cost of opening herself up to being thrown aside. Her head hit the cement and she yelped in pain. Ben pulled her up by the arm and pressed her to the wall so firmly that she couldn't move. "Are you okay?" he panted. She didn't answer. Her breath was coming out in short bursts too, but more importantly, she had nothing to say to him. "I understand, Mal. I do. But that's not how we do things. We have to operate within the law."

Dizzy's attacker had regained consciousness and was trying to crawl away. Mal knew she only had one shot. She looked up at Ben with wide eyes, and forced all of her muscles to relax. Ben did, too, letting her slump to the ground. He was always so gentle with her. He might not have been, had he known she had a second pocketknife in her shoe.

The knife was flying through the air before he knew what had happened, and embedded itself in the escaping attacker's neck. "NO!" Ben's shout didn't matter. The amount of blood spurting from the wound could only mean she'd severed something important, and this man would exsanguinate long before help arrived.

It was only then that Mal took stock of her injuries. She really didn't have any, aside from the pain in her head where she had hit the sidewalk and the skin that had split over her knuckles. Ben looked much worse for the wear - a bruise was forming on his chin, she had scratched him in a few places while trying to free herself, and perhaps worst of all, despair seemed to emanate from him. He shuffled over to what was now a corpse, uselessly taking a pulse that wouldn't be there. Then he flopped onto the ground and buried his face in his hands.

Instead of satisfaction, the scene gave Mal a vague feeling of discomfort. "He deserved it," she declared, despite owing Ben no explanation.

He uncovered his face, but didn't look at her. "We don't get to decide that. He should've been arrested. Put on trial. Punished by the law."

"Arrested?! You think that would solve anything? He gets off with a slap on the wrist when someone posts bail for him, and you can be damn sure the police aren't coming back here to find him - so then what? He goes and molests more little girls? Your precious law doesn't give a shit about the Isle kids! It never has!"

"That was before, Mal!" He stood up. "I wasn't - I couldn't be here before! I'm sorry." His voice was raised too, but then he realized it would attract people who might hear something they shouldn't. "But I'm here now. I'm trying. I'm_ trying,_ Mal."

She shook her head. "You're just one person. You can't change anything."

They were quiet for a moment. The blood pool had stopped expanding underneath the man's body. His glassy eyes had never closed. Ben sighed. "I'll figure out what to do about this. You should go."

"You're the one who should go. This is an Isle problem. I'll deal with it." She lightly kicked at the dead man, and Ben grimaced. "You can't be here by yourself. Anyone with half a brain knows you're not from around here, and if a bunch of suits show up people are going to notice."

"The body has to go to - "

"What part of 'we're outside the law now' don't you understand?" Mal snapped in frustration. "Jesus, Ben. This is like the tenth dead body this month and you start to worry when it's a _pedophile_?"

"It's not him I'm worried about, Mal!" he shot back, equally frustrated. "You knew killing a man in cold blood would endanger your immunity. Why would you..." He figured out the answer before he finished asking the question. The tension left his body as though it had been knocked out of him.

"Evie." Mal kicked the man again, harder. She felt Ben's hand on her shoulder, and this time didn't shrug it off. He guided her away from the corpse. "She cried for days. She was so...different after that."

"I'm sorry, Mal. I really am." They were empty words, but when Ben said them it almost felt like they meant something. "You know I have to include this in my report."

"Do what you have to. I don't care." She turned away from him to make a call. "I'll get this trash taken out."

* * *

A few hours later, she got a text on her burner from Ben. **Can we meet?**

Mal didn't reply right away. She was standing in front of yet another ratty apartment building with a sparkly backpack. Dizzy had dropped it in her haste to escape, and somehow Mal had missed the obnoxious thing until after the body had been taken away.

She knocked, and Drizella answered the door. The mother looked as though she couldn't decide whether to be relieved or terrified. Mal held out the backpack.

"Thank you." The older woman tossed it on the floor behind her. "Dizzy would thank you too, but she's sleeping - "

"No I'm not, mama. I couldn't sleep. I told you." The little girl appeared under her mother's arm. She still seemed pale and jittery. "Is he dead, Mal?"

"Sweetheart, don't - "

"Yes."

The three of them were quiet for a second. Then, "I want to kill the bad guys too. Can you teach me?"

"That's enough, Dizzy. Go inside. We're very - thank you again. Good-bye, Mal." Drizella closed the door, but Mal could still hear Dizzy's complaints and whining. Kids were so stupid - stupid enough to think that Mal wasn't a 'bad guy' herself. But Drizella knew, and eventually Dizzy would know, too. Whatever was left of her innocence after living in this place hadn't been ripped away from her today, but eventually she'd see Mal and everyone else like the monsters they truly were.

To Ben, she messaged, **Yeah. Usual spot.**

* * *

Their usual spot was a parking garage on the east side of AU's campus. Ben had a sedan on loan from the ACIA that he'd been using for this op. Mal joined him, slipping into the passenger seat. "How's the girl?" he asked. Like he never doubted that Mal would go and check.

"Fine." Aside from the sudden interest in homicide. "How's my immunity?"

"Not as fine. But I'm working on it." He sighed and gripped the steering wheel, even though they had no intention of driving anywhere. "I get where you're coming from, Mal. You're used to things being done a certain way, and this is a big change. But I can't protect you if we don't follow certain rules."

Mal shook her head. "I was only in this for Evie. You were never going to be able to protect me. This isn't just how I do things. This is who I am."

"This is _not _who you are," Ben countered firmly. "Not at all. Before you killed him, you were there to save that girl. You could have walked away and let me handle it, but you didn't." Mal did not acknowledge this, choosing instead to play with a loose thread on her shirt. Ben continued softly, "I don't know how much you care to hear this, but I understand why you think this way about yourself. My father - he was an ACIA agent, too. Part of the team that was responsible for cleaning up Auradon...by shoving everything they didn't like into the Isle." Mal's head whipped up. Now it was Ben who wouldn't look at her, fiddling with the air conditioning in the car. "He thought the kids that grew up there were collateral damage. I didn't. And for a long time I carried that shame because for some reason, what my father did became my fault. But it isn't, Mal." It had been a kindness, his avoidance of her eyes before. Because now he had her locked in, lost, drowning. "What they do isn't on us. We make ourselves, and we can choose to do better. I chose to join up with the ACIA so I could do something about the Isle."

Either the car was getting stuffy, or she was having some sort of breathing issue. Mal cleared her throat. "What did he have to say about this? Is he still working there? With you?"

"Mm-hmm." Whenever that connection between them broke, an unwelcome clear-headedness made her realize how much of an idiot she must have looked, with her jaw hanging open like that. "You've met him. He's the director now."

A short, involuntary burst of incredulous laughter escaped her. "The director? Sending his son out here? No wonder he didn't want me working with you."

"Yeah, he was a little...aggressive. Sorry." He gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm going to try and make sure the two of you don't have to cross paths again."

"That'd be nice." A comfortable silence fell between them before Mal blurted, "I'm sorry, too, if it matters. For what happened today."

She could tell he hadn't expected that. Mal supposed he didn't know how conditioned she was to apologize, many times for things that weren't her fault. But always to her mother, and always to avoid punishment. Not this time. _Not if we want to be better, _Evie agreed.

Ben's surprise quickly gave way to gratification. "Thanks, Mal. And for the record, I really do want to protect you, if you'll let me. You shouldn't have to pay in jail time for growing up the way you did."

It was an odd feeling - almost...touching? - that he would press the issue once Mal had already told him immunity had never been a deciding factor for her. But also, it was laughable that he thought he could. "I'll think about it."

Ben rolled his eyes, and Mal exited the car before smirking unnaturally. Because Mal did not smile. It was an unnatural smirk, goddammit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks once again to DemonFoxBK201 for the ideas! Hope you guys don't mind the slow build. Let me know if you think it's too slow/needs to be more exciting, etc.**

* * *

_"How do I know it wasn't you?"_

_It had only been a year since Evie's death, so Maleficent had every reason to distrust Mal. Yes, the girl was broken, but resentful. And now, someone had snitched to the cops and derailed some of Maleficent's plans - nothing major, but quite irritating._

_"Because you never even told me the stuff that the police knew!" Mal argued. She was well aware that the presence of the many people on either side of her, watching her argue with her mother, meant that she was being publicly insubordinate. That she would be punished. _

_"You could have been eavesdropping, you filthy mutt," Maleficent growled. "Always begging for scraps. Giving nothing in return. You're just the kind of person who would talk."_

_"I didn't!"_

_A terrible silence descended on the room while Maleficent thought. Mal's heart pounded as she wondered what would be done to her. The pounding became worse when her mother smiled._

_"You claim you're loyal to me? Prove it." She drew a gun out of her holster and held it out to Mal. "Take it."_

_Mal did as she was asked, warily, with a vague idea of what was coming. She'd been training at the firing range for a long time now, but had never actually shot a person. Maleficent clearly had a target in mind for Mal's first kill._

_"You will shoot a person of my choosing," the older woman said, as expected. But her wording was strange. With horror, Mal realized why as Maleficent nodded to two of her men, who grabbed a young man by the arms. Mal knew him. Jay. He'd been a couple of grades above her in school before he'd dropped out. She'd seen him with his friends, dodged him on his skateboard, watched him play soccer. She knew he'd been a star athlete, and at one time had had dreams of going professional. She'd heard he had a girlfriend and that he drank grown men under the table. _

_And now she could do nothing as he was forced to kneel, struggling the entire time, the image of his fear burned into her eyes. She thought she might be sick._

_"Kill him."_

_"What? No! Why?" Jay shouted, receiving a cuff to the ear for it. That didn't deter him. "Maleficent, what did I do?"_

_"Is he the snitch?" Mal asked, her voice flat and monotonous. The mask had come on, numbing the twisting in her stomach._

_"No, I would never - "_

_"No, he isn't," Maleficent told her, still smiling. "He's done nothing to me. Now kill him."_

_Jay turned his pleading eyes on her. "Mal...don't do this. Please."_

_Mal pointed the gun at him, her hand shaking. For a second, the thought crossed her mind that she had a loaded gun in her hand and her mother was standing less than five feet away - but if she acted on that thought, she'd never make it out of this building alive. _Maybe the chamber's empty, _Evie whispered in her head. _Maybe she just wants to see if you would.

_She fired two shots. The chamber was not empty. The noise was impossibly loud, and she would never forget that sound._

_Jay's face was unrecognizable. It wasn't a human face, not anymore - though how much of that was because Mal's vision was swimming, she didn't know. _

_Maleficent took a step closer and examined her daughter's work. "Sloppy," she remarked, holding out her hand for her revolver. Mal barely registered the motion to give it back, or the stumbling footsteps that took her away from that place. Maleficent just let her go - satisfied, likely, by her compliance. _

_Mal was three blocks away when reality came crashing down. There were already hot tears running down her cheeks, she just hadn't heard her own sobbing. Her ears were still ringing from the gunshots. She couldn't walk anymore - she just crumpled to the ground and vomited. There was nothing and no one that could ever help her now. She'd become a monster, just like her mother - the only person who would ever accept her after this. Mal__ hugged herself and curled up against a brick wall, continuing to cry well into the chilly spring night, entirely alone, while Jay's horrible death cemented itself in her worst memories._

* * *

Most of the time, Mal's presence kept Ben safe while they were in the Isle. He'd had a glimpse of what happened to the weak, the useless, but had no idea about the kind of dread the Isle residents lived with every day. Until now.

Mal heard the shouting first as they were walking to a pickup, and had already pulled Ben down by his collar when the first shots rang out. The two of them were out in the open on the sidewalk, exposed, and bullets were flying. They crawled, low to the ground, until they were able to take refuge behind a dumpster in an alley. There was more shouting, confusion, screams of pain.

"Are they shooting at us?" Ben whispered. Mal ignored how close he'd gotten for her to hear that, and shook her head.

"No. We're in the crossfire." Her head snaked around the corner of the dumpster and she scanned what limited view she had for more information. This was technically Green Dragon territory, but hardly undisputed. Upstart gangs were being formed all the time, while older ones nursed grudges going back years. Mal could not see any identifying information, other than someone clearly trying to start a gang war. "Shit. We might be stuck here for a while."

"I'm not carrying a gun on me, Mal." Ben was still searched every time he came by the warehouse. He didn't look worried, though, as if that statement was more for Mal's knowledge than the words of a terrified man.

"You can have mine." She was not graceful about shimmying the weapon out of its holster while in such a cramped position.

Ben refused initially. "You'll need it."

"No, I won't."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mal - "

"I'm not going to use it," she snapped. "Do you want it or not?"

Silently, he took it from her, and they waited. She was acutely aware of Ben watching her, as if she didn't have enough problems. Mal had no focus left to expend on figuring out what he was thinking, and why he was staring at her like this was the first time he'd noticed she had purple hair. At least three people had been shot, judging by the cries she'd heard. She hadn't recognized any of the voices, so perhaps the Green Dragons hadn't taken any casualties yet.

Five minutes passed before they heard running footsteps. A young man Mal did not know had had the same idea as her, and had come to use the dumpster as cover. Upon seeing her and Ben in his potential hiding spot, his eyes widened. Even without looking, Mal could practically feel Ben pleading with her. _Don't kill him._

She swept her leg through the stranger's, knocking him down. As off guard as he was, Mal had an arm around his windpipe before he could react - loosely, but it could turn into a choke-hold at a moment's notice. Her other hand held a knife to his throat, pressed firmly enough to nick his skin. "Scream and you die."

"Tell us what's going on," urged Ben.

"S-some guys from up n-north want this block," he mumbled.

Mal's arm tightened a little around his neck. "'Some guys'? And you're not one of these guys?"

"No, I swear!" It was a lie. He knew who she was. Everyone knew who she was. He was too cowardly to admit to being a rival gang member, and he wasn't wearing any identifying colors.

"How many people?" Ben persisted. "What are they armed with? What's their plan?"

"I-I don't know!"

"If you don't start being useful in the next three seconds..." threatened Mal.

"Thirty! There's thirty of them. Eight of them are down. They're about to turn around. That's all I could tell before I got here!"

The benefit of Maleficent using her money for power instead of luxury was that the Green Dragons were better armed than any other rag-tag force in the area. Better armed than the local police, even. Only the incredibly stupid would think to stand against them without a similar cache.

Speaking of incredible stupidity, Ben had navigated around her and her captive to peek out at the battleground. "What are you doing?" she hissed. "Get back here!"

"The shooting's died down," he observed, indifferent to her awkward grabs for him while still maintaining a hold on their prisoner. "You need to decide now what you're going to do with this kid." Ben's voice made it very clear what she should do with 'this kid', even though he couldn't actually tell her to let him go.

The young man whimpered. With a world-weary sigh, Mal released her hold on him. "I'm only keeping you alive to send a message. Tell the rest of your idiot friends that if any of my people see any of your people again, they're dead on the spot. None of you ever come back here. Understand?" He nodded fervently and scampered off with his retreating group. Mal finally succeeded in pulling Ben back into the safety of their cover, and relaxed. "The Dragons are going to canvas this area. Let them find us. Better than surprising them."

"Okay." While Mal had considered this whole episode a bit alarming, Ben was cool as a cucumber. "Thanks for letting him go. Are you hurt?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine, despite your best attempts to get my arm blown off."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know, Mal, I _am _a fed. I do know what I'm doing."

"Could've fooled me," she retorted. "Do you have any idea how bad the aim of these guys are? You could be dead before anyone realized they shot you!"

"It's very sweet of you to care - "

"Don't _ever_ call me sweet, and I_ don't_ care," declared Mal. She had the nagging feeling that she was just amusing him.

"Got it. Well, I promise it's more than just luck that keeps me alive. But thanks for this, too." He made to hand the gun back to her, but stopped to examine it instead. His trained eyes could probably figure out how unused it was. Mal snatched the revolver back, hoping Ben wouldn't ask any questions, but of course -"Now that I think about it, I've never seen you use a gun."

"And I've never seen _you _use a gun. What's your point?"

Her defensiveness did not help her case. "You should've kept it. It could've saved your life if things went south."

"But they didn't." If the Green Dragons could hurry the hell up, she would very much appreciate it.

Ben stayed silent, which was almost worse. She could practically hear the gears in his head turning as he sifted through his wealth of information on Mal's entire life.

It was only her good sense that kept her from raising her voice. "Just stop it!"

"I...wasn't doing anything?"

"I mean, stop asking me questions you already know the answer to! I _know _you know about Jay. I saw his mugshot in your binder. You know what happened to him. What I - " She shook her head. Even the mention of it made her nauseous. She _never _thought about that day. "Just stop."

Ben rested his head on the dumpster behind him, using her admission to remember the exact event she was alluding to. The night that Jay had died by her hand. "You would've been seventeen," he said, his voice barely concealing the horror of that realization. Mal bit back another wave of nausea.

"Shut up, Ben. Just shut up." Somehow, it actually hurt her, given all of his speeches about how she was _different_, and _special_, and _good. _He had been so naive. She was none of those things. Just a cold-blooded killer, like he'd probably always suspected, deep down. "I know, okay? I don't need you to - goddammit! You don't need to act like you've never heard of another teenage psychopath before!"

Mal felt a lump rising in her throat, but she swallowed it. She refused to let him think she was both bloodthirsty _and_ weak. What helped more than her forced stoicism, however, was Ben unexpectedly covering her hand with his own. She was so startled, she let him.

"You don't think you deserve redemption, do you?"

Her breath caught. She knew better by now than to try and read him, or suffer being sucked in by that penetrating gaze. "I-I never asked for redemption."

"Maybe you should."

As was inevitable, she looked. That easy, gentle smile. Those beautiful blue eyes that stared right into whatever was left of her soul. That warm, caring touch that no one had dared share with her in almost a decade. She felt like a teenager again - vulnerable and lost and desperately trying to find something to hold on to -

"Don't move! - oh, it's you." Mal and Ben scrambled to their feet - and apart - upon their discovery by Gaston and one of his sons. "What are you doing, hiding here like a rat?"

Mal gazed at him coolly. "Best not insult me, Gaston. You only have a few sons left."

G2, as she'd always called the grandly named Gaston II, scowled in an attempt to hide the sudden draining of blood from his face. "He's just asking. And who's this - your little pet?"

"Yes." She didn't like the way he was eyeing Ben, so she casually stepped between them. "We got caught in the ambush, no real weapons. Thought we'd let you take care of it." She nodded at the semi-automatic rifles strapped to their backs. "Where did these assholes come from?"

"Skinheads from up north. We've got orders to chase them down, kill every last one of these roaches. You can catch up once you hit the arsenal - we're not waiting for you."

"Fine." The leering duo went on their way, and, having essentially been given the all-clear, so did Mal and Ben. They picked up their supply and made it back to his car - all the while, Ben was shockingly quiet. This was fine by Mal, as she really did not want to discuss what had happened moments before they'd been found. She'd prefer to forget it altogether, along with that strange feeling she'd gotten when he'd reaffirmed his belief in her.

"It's been kind of an exciting day. You don't have to come back with me," he offered once the package had been safely concealed in his trunk.

"That's pretty normal for a Thursday, to be honest."

"Oh." He opened the driver's side door and then paused. "Can you sit with me for a second?"

Mal had a sinking sense of dread in her stomach, but did as he asked. There was less chance of being overheard that way.

He bit his lip for a minute, deep in thought. "I don't know how to convince you of this, Mal. I'm not sure I can." His voice was soft and soothing, and probably would have put a less suspicious person at ease. "But you should know - if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have lasted three minutes. Being raised by Maleficent, I mean. No one besides you could have made it this far, been forced to endure and do so many horrible things, and still have anything like a heart left. She tried _so hard_, Mal. She tried to crush you and break you and turn you into a copy of her, but she couldn't. No matter how cruel she was to you, you still - you're not beyond saving, Mal. Not by a long shot."

This was the exact kind of speech she had been hoping not to get. No one else could make her feel so much with just _words. _It was terrible and beautiful and incomprehensible. "Why do you even care?" Her voice broke, and the sentence came out as more of a whisper.

Ben frowned. "Why wouldn't I care?"

Her vision blurred, and she stared up at the roof of the car to force the tears to stay in place. "I'm not someone worth caring about."

"You're worth more than she's ever let you believe. You don't have to take my word for it, but - "

She couldn't do this anymore. Abruptly, she opened the passenger side door. "I have to go." She didn't wait for him to reply.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks again for all the reviews, everyone! We're about halfway through!**

* * *

"If you're expecting me to be grateful that you're not screwing things up for once in your life, don't."

Despite Ben's nervous-college-student act, Mal could see the subtle flash of anger in his eyes. Maleficent paused in her snide commentary to count the stacks of rumpled bills, purportedly coming from the pockets of dozens of party goers. Ben waited beside Mal, hands stuffed in the pockets of his ripped jeans. Anything besides a suit looked jarring on him, given his character and career. Mal took it upon herself to helpfully point out how he ridiculous he looked every time he wore street clothes, even though he had no means of changing them by the time he'd come to meet her.

_You can't say 'ridiculous' when you mean 'adorable'. They're not synonyms._

Mal had never been so annoyed with Evie's voice.

"So, uh...do I get my cut today, or...?" Ben probed after a minute of silence.

Maleficent threw a few dollars at his feet. "You're welcome."

He frowned. "This isn't very much..."

_Oh no. _Mal's stomach dropped and a horrible, unfamiliar feeling washed over her - fear, but for someone other than herself. Somehow it was worse than when she was the one being terrorized. She almost tried to put a stop to the inevitable violence, but Ben's eyes flitted to hers just before Maleficent's knuckles connected with his cheek, as if to say _don't get involved. _That was when she realized her expression was giving her away. So while Ben took a couple of hits from her mother, crying out rather obnoxiously, she steeled herself and seethed in silence. Why would he say something antagonizing like that? Did it have to be part of the act, that he couldn't always walk away from Maleficent unscathed?

Why did she even care?

Maleficent dropped him to the floor, where he lay groaning. "You want more money? Then you work for it, you whining brat. Don't _ever_ complain to me again, not when me and mine are doing so much for you. We always need hands when we're getting new shipments, why don't you make yourself useful tomorrow?"

Oh. It had been his way of asking for more responsibility. Digging further into the organization; getting closer. Mal would've fallen for it, too. That made it slightly easier to watch him struggle to get back up - again, with much drama and exaggeration - without lifting a finger to help him. "I'm sorry. I...I can be useful."

"That's better." She patted his freshly bruised cheek, and Ben winced. "Now get out."

* * *

Mal had to be seen going to the AU campus regularly to keep the cover story suspicion-free. Sometimes she went by herself and wandered around on the quad, trying to figure out how the same boys throwing crude pick-up lines at her were intelligent enough to end up in college. Perhaps Evie had been right, and Mal was smarter than she knew - or other people were dumber than she thought. This time, though, she and Ben went together. He'd said he wanted to treat her to a late breakfast as a 'thank you' for getting him so far. Mal suspected he had an alternative reason, as they would be meeting the ACIA Director immediately afterwards, and Mal's usual level of blunt cynicism was not going to help Ben alleviate his father's worries - especially in light of his recent injuries (they were mild, but supposedly most parents cared about their children and would find even small bruises distressing).

And, in more disturbing news, Mal realized she really didn't mind spending time with him. She hardly put up a fight when he insisted they dine in instead of getting their food to go.

The two of them settled in a booth in the relatively empty on-campus waffle house. "How does it look? Pretty badass?" Ben asked hopefully, turning his face so she could see all angles.

She rolled her eyes. "Did you have to get yourself beaten up?"

"It was a good opportunity." He shrugged. "I feel like she may have actually gone easy on me, since I'm - you know - spoiled and delicate."

That got a snicker out of Mal just as their waitress came over. "What can I get for you?"

"Hmm. I'll have the blueberry waffles. Extra toppings, please. What about you, Mal?"

"Black coffee."

"Let's make that two orders of the blueberry waffles," Ben decided, smiling at the waitress. She smiled back, because of course she did; his smile was as contagious as the plague. "And a black coffee too, I guess." How gracious of him.

These waffles came _loaded_ with whipped cream and strawberries and additional blueberries, in case the constituent blueberries were inadequate for some reason. Ben dug in heartily, but stopped once he noticed Mal staring blankly down at her plate. "Something wrong?"

"No, I'm just...trying to remember the last time I had a strawberry."

"The Isle's a food desert." Ben nodded in understanding. "You don't get produce there very often, do you?"

"A food - what? I don't - I guess. That's actually a good way to put it...a food desert." Memories of scrounging for scraps threatened to surface, and Mal pushed them away. "Never. I've never had a strawberry."

"That's a crime in and of itself, Mal."

She was ignoring him, because she was currently in fruit heaven. In about half a second, all the strawberries had disappeared from her plate and she started eyeing the ones across from her. Ben rotated his plate towards her with a raised eyebrow. Mal considered that an open invitation.

The strawberries were just divine. And with the whipped cream? "Are you smiling?"

"No." She scowled to prove her point. "But for that, you lose another strawberry."

"Why do I feel like I was going to lose another strawberry anyway?" Ben remarked as he watched Mal steal food from his plate.

"Strike three." She took a third piece of fruit. He picked all the strawberries off his waffle and dumped them in her plate. Mal frowned. "It's not as fun if you just give them to me."

He grinned. "I know."

* * *

Director Kingsley did a very thorough examination of Ben's face, and 'tsk'ed through the whole thing. "Admittedly, you've had worse in basic training."

"Chad broke one of my ribs. Almost punctured a lung," Ben explained to Mal.

"Maybe next time," Mal deadpanned.

Adam's eyes narrowed when Ben chuckled, but he said nothing.

"Anyway, Director, I think tomorrow might be the day."

"It's too soon," countered Adam. "You're being reckless. Don't rush this."

"I'm not being reckless, dad." This conversation clearly did not include Mal, who wondered if they'd forgotten she was in the room. "You know that. I've protected myself every step of the way, as much as I could. You even thought the panic button was enough - when I told you it wasn't me going in - and I still got the nano-tracker implanted and the cavity pill - "

"Yes Ben, please tell her all of our safety measures. Give her the names of our sleeper agents while you're at it." So Adam, at least, hadn't forgotten about her.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," volunteered Mal.

Ben shook his head. "I trust Mal, dad. As much as I trust anyone else in the agency. She's nothing like her mother - "

"I know of a dead pedophile who feels differently."

"That's not fair."

"Fair or not," Mal interrupted, "what's happening tomorrow? What are you arguing about?"

The two men exchanged looks. "A sting operation. Hopefully, _the _sting operation. If we catch Maleficent red-handed receiving a shipment of the size she's getting, we can put her away for life."

_Put her away for life_. Those words took a second to register in Mal's head, as she was having trouble picturing her mother in an orange jumpsuit, trapped behind bars until she grew old and gray. And this was happening tomorrow? Her stomach tied itself into knots. Adam was right. It was too soon. She'd been given no time to prepare for something like this - it was the fall of an empire and the end of life as she knew it. _Tomorrow?_

"I say we take this shot. Every day I'm under cover, there's a chance I get exposed and we lose everything. This is the perfect opportunity. We take in three teams, I'll be armed as well - by the time they realize what's happening we'll have the entire dock locked down."

Though Mal was still reeling, she didn't miss the excitement in Ben's voice. She understood that he'd had a plan in motion for years - painstaking research, weapons and martial training, god knows what else was involved - but she had a terrible feeling about it. The blood draining out of her face must have been apparent.

"Your CI agrees with me," declared Adam. "It's too risky. Look at her."

That snapped her back to the present. How dare he speak for her? This man, who was responsible for the ruined lives of so many Isle children? Who reveled in the clean streets of his beautiful kingdom and shoved everything dark and desolate onto the poverty-stricken and voiceless population he'd created? Who had treated her like less than human since the moment he'd met her? It absolutely infuriated her. "I don't agree with you, actually. I want this finished, once and for all. To me, it just seems like you don't have any confidence in your son."

It was a low blow, and one that Ben dismissed immediately with a frown in her direction. The Director, however, took it as a personal insult. "I have the _utmost_ confidence in him, not that your unsolicited opinion is at all necessary."

"That's enough," Ben cut in. "Maleficent wants me there tomorrow. The possibility of discovery only goes up with time. This is the least risky move. Do you have any disagreements - besides the ones with each other?"

Both of them did, Mal realized, but she certainly wasn't going to side with Adam and now the Director couldn't back down from his 'utmost confidence' comment. They were still glaring daggers at each other when the meeting had ended.

"How are you feeling about all of this?" inquired Ben on the drive back to the Isle's perimeter.

"Um...great." _This is a mistake. We shouldn't do this. Something will go wrong. _Seeking a distraction, Mal asked, "What's a nano-tracker?"

"A beacon. Surgically implanted behind my ear." He tapped his right mastoid. "Agents know my location at all times."

"_Surgical_? Jesus Christ, Ben."

"Strip searching is pretty common. We had to get creative." Mal did not know how she felt about the picture that left in her head. "We had a panic switch in the front button of my jeans. Would've looked kind of awkward if I had to use it, but I suppose that would be the least of my problems at that point."

"And that calls the agents tracking you?"

"Yep."

"How did I not know about this?"

"Mal...are you suggesting the ACIA is keeping secrets from you?" Ben gasped.

Mal rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"The _audacity_ \- "

"Okay, I get it!" She forgot to be angry when Ben laughed. "I assume there's a lot more you didn't mention in your speech back there?"

"Yes. Maybe if you join up, you'll learn all of it."

"Join up?" Now it was her turn to laugh. "Is the ACIA hiring future ex-cons?"

"Future ex-con. You should put that on your resumé." She snickered. "But I think we make a good team, don't we?"

Mal didn't respond, as there was a warm feeling bubbling up in her stomach. She knew his outlandish proposal was just to poke fun at her, but his last statement seemed sort of...sincere.

* * *

The jokes only helped for the duration of that car ride; Mal's dread resurfaced and did not alleviate by the next day. She'd joined Ben again at ACIA headquarters while the three teams geared up, but had yet to say a word. Ben was too busy to notice, giving out instructions and inspecting equipment. He'd put a bulletproof vest on underneath his AU sweater and concealed a small pistol around his belt. This entire operation would have to be executed before he was searched - so, quite literally, the second they set foot on the dock.

The two of them took their usual car, though this trip felt anything but normal. Somewhere behind them, six unmarked black sedans were following. Mal glanced in the passenger side mirror again and again, trying to catch a glimpse, but she couldn't see them. Not that seeing them would help.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You know you don't have to do anything but stay out of the way."

"I know."

_"Get out of my way!" Maleficent slapped her across the face, furious. "You think you can keep me from a room in my own house?!"_

_"Mommy, please," blubbered a much younger Mal, still trying to span the doorway to her room with her tiny body. "Don't take it away!"_

_"You don't deserve to have anything," Maleficent hissed. "Not even a creature as disgusting as you are."_

_Mal had found a toad, named it Stella, and brought it home. It survived five hours in her house before Maleficent heard croaking and came to kill it. After she disposed of the toad's body, she turned to her daughter._

Mal's hands were starting to feel a bit sweaty. She fiddled with the air conditioning in Ben's car, hoping to get a little cool air flowing in her direction.

_It was so, so hot. Maleficent had locked Mal in a rundown shed for a full day now. She might have even forgotten about her. _

_Mal would do anything for a glass of water._

_"Have you learned your lesson?" The door finally reopened, and to her relief, Mal saw Maleficent holding the glass she so desperately desired._

_"Yes! I have!"_

_Her mother smirked. "I'm not convinced." She dumped the water onto the ground and locked the door again._

A little bit of bile rose in the back of Mal's throat. Ben was driving a little more aggressively than usual, she figured. That would explain the sudden dizziness. Though, he was still at the speed limit.

_Mal's wrists were bound together, tied to the rear bumper of a truck. The road was full of gravel and potholes. On all sides of her, people cheered and whooped. "This is what happens when you defy me!" Maleficent announced. Then, to the person in the front seat, she ordered, "Drive."_

It was getting harder to breathe. Ben glanced over at her. "Mal?"

_Her nose was broken and bleeding freely._

"Mal?!"

_Maleficent was holding her hand over the stove while Mal screamed in pain._

"Mal, talk to me!"

_Evie's lifeless eyes -_

"Stop," she gasped finally, her arm flailing for purchase while the world spun around her. "We c-can't...we can't...she...always w-wins."

The car came to a stop. Or maybe it didn't. She wasn't quite sure. She vaguely heard Ben's voice, off to the side, talking to someone else. Maybe a phone call. Why couldn't she see anything clearly?

A rush of air on her right. Ben had opened the passenger door. "Come here, Mal. Get some fresh air. Come on."

He helped her stumble out of the car, and she started sobbing. She felt awful, like her mind was being shattered, like her body would never do what she wanted again. With nothing else to support her, she threw her arms around Ben and clung to him for dear life. After half a second of tensed surprise, he held her tightly and gently stroked her hair while she continued to weep.

"I've got you. It's okay. You're safe."

And she cried harder, because she was _never _safe, not ever. "S-she'll...kill me." Even now, her lungs were constricted and fighting her every attempt to inhale.

"She will never lay another finger on you, Mal. I won't let it happen."

Mal buried her face in his chest, his sweater already wet with her tears. His embrace grew tighter, more secure, around her shaking frame - her knees were about to give way and she had all but collapsed already. "W-we c-can't, Ben!"

"We won't. Not today. I called it off. I told you, remember? If you ever want out, you're out. No questions asked."

A wave of relief hit her, but it wasn't enough to steady her. At least, that's what she told herself. Really, though, she just didn't want to let go. For once in her life, she felt protected and comforted, and once she gathered herself that would all go away. Ben wouldn't whisper soft reassurances into her ear. He wouldn't run his fingers through her hair, or hug her so close that they fit together like puzzle pieces. She wasn't ready for him to stop.

"Can I tell you something I've never told anyone else?"

Though she was nestled in under his chin quite nicely, she nodded.

"I never use another name. I'm always Ben. Every single op I've done for the last three years, I've been Ben. It's common enough, and also - I am really, really bad at responding to anything else. Like I just won't."

A bubble of laughter escaped her, and she felt the rumble under her cheek as he chuckled, too. Mal finally wiped her tears and looked up at him, lightly swatting his chest. "That's something you should've told me before we started working together."

His head was dipped low, his smile soft and without a hint of pity. "You wouldn't have worked with me, then."

"Exactly."

She really was smiling now, she realized. _Just like the plague. _It faltered after just a second of gazing into his eyes, and she bit her lip and looked away.

"I shouldn't be crying like this, like some weak, pathetic, useless - "

"Mal, no." Ben moved to rest his hands on her shoulders, and instead cupped the sides of her face. His thumbs flicked away the most recent tears. "You are an incredibly strong person. I mean it. Stronger than I ever thought anyone could be. Honestly, that's why I..." He pursed his lips and started again. "You've amazed me again and again with how much you fight against everything your mother has ever taught you. You're always fighting these days, Mal. It's okay to take a minute when you need it."

Her knees were feeling weak all over again. Maybe because the way he looked at her made her feel like there wasn't anyone else in the world. Maybe because any slight movement of his hand felt like a caress on her cheek. Or maybe because his lips were so close to hers, that if she pushed herself onto the tips of her toes they would touch. Slowly, her hands came up to cover his, but just as her fingers brushed his skin - he got a text message.

Ben withdraw his hands, a mildly panicked expression flashing across his face for just a moment. "Let me...uh, let me see if that's anything important." Mal nodded dumbly and stood absolutely still as he rummaged through his pockets. His brows knitted together upon reading whatever was on his screen, and suddenly he was smoothing down his hair and angling his phone upwards so his clothes weren't visible.

He got a call. A video call, judging by the way he was staring at his phone.

"Hey, babe."

Before Mal could even process that last word, an usually chipper voice came out of the speaker. "_Benny-boo! I've missed you!"_


	7. Chapter 7

**A new chapter so soon? Well, I didn't have the heart to leave you guys in suspense. **

* * *

_"Benny-boo! I've missed you!"_

Mal wanted to die, and in response, her heart shuddered to a stop. Her stomach sank so far it could've been underground. If she could disappear into thin air, she would.

"I've missed you, too." Ben's gaze flitted towards her, but she'd already let the mask take over.

He had a girlfriend. Or maybe a wife. It shouldn't have mattered, except that Mal had only just understood that everything she felt around him - it was real. Against her better judgement - against her _best _judgement - she was falling for him. And she had thought that he...

Well, he didn't.

Mal cursed every circumstance that had led her to meet him. Ben was everything she _needed _in her life but had continued to deny herself, all wrapped up in one person. He saw her, really _saw_ her, and treated her like no one else ever had. He'd given her hope about so many things - bringing her mother to justice, having a life again, rising above her past. But as it turned out, all of this had meant so much more to her than it had to him.

_And what if he'd gotten hurt, or worse? What if your mother..._Evie's insinuation echoed in Mal's head chillingly.

His phone call continued. "Do_ you remember the party we had last weekend? Do you mind dropping off some of those supplies when you come by tonight?"_

"Yeah, I can do that. I'll see you then."

Mal forced herself to listen. Forced herself to face how stupid she had been. She'd latched on to his kindness, desperate for any human interaction that wasn't cold and painful, like a clueless child. The thing Ben called her strength - her ability to care, despite her history - it was actually weakness. It had made her gullible and naive, and now she was being taught that horrible lesson again. The one her mother had tried to instill so long ago.

Have no attachments.

Clearly, she hadn't learned. This shock was for the best, then. This time, the punishment for developing feelings of any kind had been doled out not by her mother, but by fate. And fate was much kinder than Maleficent was. Better to detach herself now, lose whatever connection she thought they had, before anything happened to Ben while she still cared about him. She needed to pull away.

_"Oh wait, say hi to Shenzi and Banzai!" _There was a hyena-like laugh in the background, followed by, "_Hi, Ben. Long time."_

"Hey, everyone. Good to see you."

The original voice came back on. "_I'll talk to you later, Benny-boo. Love you."_

"Love you too, Rory."

Ben relaxed once the call ended, but the last thing Mal wanted right now was to talk to him. She decided to make a call of her own, noticing he wasn't quite done contacting people either. This time, at least, she didn't have to listen.

"_What?" _Maleficent's harsh voice in her ear reminded her that she had a job to do. They were still expected at the docks, even though for her, the world had come to a screeching halt.

"Ben's car broke down. He's staying here to get it towed. I'm on my way."

Maleficent spent a few seconds cussing Ben out - which was somewhat therapeutic for Mal, if she was being honest - before eventually barking, _"Fine_," and hanging up.

"At the address from last week," Ben instructed to whomever was on the other end of the line. "Same time as last week too, she didn't give me a new one. Call me back if you have any problems." He ended this call as well, and looked at her like he was about to say something.

Mal took this opportunity to tell him in no uncertain terms, "I'm going to the docks alone. I told her you weren't coming."

"I can drop you off at - "

"No. I'll take the bus. Someone might see your car." The nearest bus stop was about a mile away, and Ben knew it.

He chewed on his lip and nodded. "Look, Mal, I don't know if you care - "

"I don't."

Her reply was so blunt and cold, it startled him. She turned and started walking along the side of the road, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't drive up beside her and insist she get in the car.

Surprisingly, he didn't, but she wasn't sure if that was worse. From behind her, she heard a sad, very final-sounding, "Good-bye, Mal." She did not turn around.

* * *

_"What is this? What's going on?" _

_Maleficent was blocking her view of something with a terrifying smile on her face. Mal shivered and hugged herself, already feeling the psychological effects of whatever her mother was going to do to her. Instead of anything violent, though, Maleficent just stepped aside._

_Harry was standing behind the older woman, wearing a similar nasty grin. He held a chain in his hand, and tugged on it. Someone groaned - the heap on the other end of the chain was a person. Harry grabbed them by the hair and yanked so Mal could see their face._

_Ben._

_She gasped. His right eye was swollen and black. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Cuts and bruises littered his face and bare chest. She was fairly certain his arm wasn't supposed to hang at that angle. "M-mal..." he rasped through a throat that had not seen water in days._

_"No..." she whimpered, moving towards him. _

_Maleficent grabbed her shoulder. "You think I didn't know about your little secret? Your little spy friend? I know everything, Mal. I have eyes and ears everywhere. And I always win."_

_Harry taunted her as well. "I knew he was a narc. But I guess you did, too, huh, Mal? He talked. He told us everything."_

_"And now he's no longer useful." Before Mal could blink, Maleficent had pulled out her pistol and shot Ben three times in the heart._

"NO!" Mal woke screaming. A cold sweat covered her forehead and her breaths were coming hard and fast. In the darkness of her room, she could still make out the familiar outlines of her possessions.

It had been a dream. None of it was real. Not yet, anyway.

She swung her legs over the side of her bed and rested her head in her hands. Her shouting wouldn't have bothered Maleficent - Mal had been having nightmares her whole life, and no one had ever come along to investigate the noise. She reached under her bed for the burner phone Ben had given her and turned it on, only to be met with an empty inbox. No new texts.

It had been three days since she'd last seen Ben, pulled over on the side of the road, fresh off the phone with his precious _Rory_. He hadn't tried to contact her at all, nor she him. She'd spent the time trying to associate the thought of him with the organ-liquefying embarrassment she'd felt that day. She refused to remember his gentle touches or cute smiles - not to mention the passionate speeches or much needed hugs...and the sparkle in his eyes when he laughed. _Stop it!_ She wasn't going to think about all of that. No, he was the one who had gotten close to her, and then dropped a bombshell. Ben had humiliated her. He had to have known what he was doing. That was why he was avoiding her. Right?

But now she was starting to worry - what if he hadn't sent her any messages because he'd been captured? Or killed? She wasn't quite at the point yet where that wouldn't bother her. Despite Evie giving her multiple reasons why she shouldn't, and despite it being three in the morning, Mal sent a text. **When's your next pickup?**

She flopped back into bed, not really expecting an answer in the middle of the night. So when her phone beeped, she jumped a little.

**Not now, I hope. It's a bit late.**

So he was fine. Her concerns addressed, Mal did not intend on replying. She wasn't going to go chasing after him.

_But what about me? _Evie demanded, immediately making Mal feel guilty. This had never been about Ben. This had been about Evie, about putting her mother away, about cleaning up the Isle. That was what she had set out to do, and Ben thinking he could bench her just because of one mental breakdown - okay, that was actually quite serious, but -

Another text lit up the screen. **How are you doing?**

Annoyed, she responded, **I'm fine. Pickup today.**

**I don't actually need a pickup right now. I've been handling it on my own the past few days.**

Mal's eyes nearly popped out of her head. **WHAT? What the hell is wrong with you?**

The phone started ringing, but she silenced it and considered throwing it across the room. Her fingers squeezed the device so tightly they turned white. How dare he continue on without her? After blowing all of that hot air about her being so 'strong', he was going to treat her like she couldn't be trusted? Like she was a burden to be tossed aside?

The 'Ben calling' notification disappeared, and a text took its place. **I thought you were out.**

Out what? Out shopping? For three days? Out - oh, wait. _You want out, you're out. No questions asked. _He'd said that to her multiple times. The rational part of her brain knew this was a misunderstanding, but she was not quite done being angry. **Well, you were wrong.**

**Glad to hear it. We need to talk.**

Damn it. Now she had to meet him.

* * *

It was a very, very quiet car ride.

Ben had tried, to his credit, to re-establish the banter they used to have. But he was clearly exhausted, and Mal wasn't budging, so he stopped. Mal made it a point to lean on the passenger door, as far away from him as she could get, and only sneak glances at him through the rear view mirror. She could see the dark circles under his eyes. A very small pang of guilt surfaced when she thought about how she had texted him in the middle of the night, but she banished it. He could've had his phone on silent if he hadn't wanted to be disturbed.

Mal walked by his side as they entered ACIA HQ, but about six inches farther apart than she otherwise would have - the scent of his cologne was driving her up the wall. Her arms were crossed and her mask was on. She couldn't have been more closed off if she tried.

"Ben! I'm glad I caught you."

They hadn't quite made it past the atrium when Mal heard the voice that had been eating away at her ego. Rory. She was sure of it. Rory worked here. Mal turned to see where the voice was coming from - if she thought she could deflate no further, she was wrong.

Rory was _gorgeous. _Flowing brown hair, perfect tanned skin, cupid's bow lips, and a prim suit tailored to fit snugly on her body. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she approached them, hips swaying _just _enough to be noticeable, but not enough to be called suggestive. Mal was quite used to feeling inadequate, but this was just ridiculous. Ben's girlfriend was a veritable model, and god knows how much time they spent together in this building. Mal's jaw clenched involuntarily at the thought.

Ben, of course, was over the moon to see her. "Hey, Audrey, how are you?"

Audrey?

Maybe Mal had confused the voices. Maybe this wasn't his dear, beloved Rory, though she really didn't want to see what _that _girl looked like.

"I'm good. Thanks again for getting me out of that jam the other day."

Audrey stopped in front of them, raising an eyebrow at Mal. Mal didn't much care for introductions, but Ben offered, "This is Mal. My CI. Mal, this is Audrey, she works with the Foreign Affairs division."

Mal gave her a stiff nod.

"Well, anyway, Rory and Ben are on a weekend getaway to Charmington right now. In case that comes up at all the next time I call," she informed him.

"Charmington. Got it. I'll put it in the file."

They said their goodbyes, and as Mal and Ben headed into his office, a creeping sense of hope overtook her. She didn't want to hope, of course. But here she was, hoping. _They're probably dating in real life, too. Maybe that's what makes it so easy for them to pretend, _reasoned Evie.

Mal was currently displaying a god-like level of impulse control, considering how much she wanted to know the truth. But it didn't matter. Neither outcome meant anything to her. She was working with Ben solely for Evie. Nothing more was going to happen between them.

Still, "Are you working multiple ops?" she blurted. So much for impulse control.

There was no mistaking the relief in Ben's tone, like he had been holding back an explanation of this specific topic. "Not equally. Audrey asked me to be part of her cover, since it's easier to get in contact with the ACIA that way - when she needs to. But that's all." He put heavy emphasis on the last sentence.

"I heard you talking to her, after...you know," said Mal quietly.

"Yeah, that was her. But she was under cover - and it wasn't my cover to expose."

A warm _something_ bubbled up in Mal's chest as she sat down across from him. _No. No, no, no! No! We're not doing this! _She fought it, she really did. Mal had drawn further into herself, hunched over and refused to make eye contact - which was probably why Ben didn't say anything further._ A botched lesson is still a lesson. Have no attachments. It only ends in pain._

But she couldn't help the way she felt.

Director Kingsley knocked and entered. He couldn't have possibly missed the thick tension in the room, but that only seemed to put him in a better mood. "Ben, I know why you called me here. I highly recommend you do not try that mission again. Especially not with..." He was standing behind her, but Mal was pretty sure he was pointing at her.

"I can do this," she rebutted stubbornly. "Last time was...we weren't ready."

"And you're not ready now." Adam maneuvered around her to half-sit on the desk. "Even less so, I'd argue, given what happened. People lose confidence when a mission is called off, Ben. Money and time are wasted. And there's no rush - "

"There _is _a rush, Dad!" The vehemence took everyone aback, even Ben. It was the first time Mal suspected he knew more than he let on. Normally Ben was calm, cool, collected. Very little fazed him, be it Mal's homicidal exes or a full-on gang war shootout. She figured his obvious sleepiness had something to do with it, but that couldn't have been the whole story. Ben continued, mildly, "You haven't been there. You haven't seen what it's like. Kids are living and dying in that place. They're not safe." He quieted, half-heartedly leafing through some papers on his desk. "And...I think Maleficent is signing a deal with Ratcliffe Inc."

Pin-drop silence.

"The weapons manufacturer?" clarified Adam, surprised. "They don't do civilian contracts."

"She has the money," Mal said slowly. "But I didn't know about this. I would've known."

"It took me a long time." Ben rubbed his eyes. "The new member you mentioned, the first time you took me to the Isle. Shan Yu. He's a go-between. I've got a set up so I'm notified every time his face is picked up on CCTV outside of the Isle. In the last week or so, he's been spending a lot of time around the Ratcliffe offices on Third Street. I dug around a little in their servers, and they've got a pending payment from an unknown party using a local bank."

Adam was incensed. "You should have told me!"

"All I had was speculation! I still don't have any proof. I've been following him for the past few days - "

"Are you _insane_?" It was Mal's turn to be furious, all thoughts about a blossoming romance roughly pushed aside. "Without me? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing my job, Mal - "

She slapped her forehead. "I can't believe how stupid you're being. That man is _dangerous_. Even I don't - "

"I don't think you get to lecture me on safety when you still live there, Mal." She gaped at him, but he stared back at her resolutely. "I know Maleficent's still hurting you, and I offered you a way out, and you turned me down. So now that's one more thing I have to worry about." Man, he really was tired. He was getting a little snippy.

"She'd notice if I was gone," Mal pointed out, now rather self-conscious of the new defensive wound on her left wrist. "I haven't spent more than a couple of nights away from home in years."

"Her safety is not the point here, Ben," interrupted Adam. "The point is that I should've been informed the minute you suspected something."

"That's what I'm doing. This is something I'd want to pursue, if I had the time. But I don't know what kind of weapons she's getting, and I don't know what she's planning to use them for. Worst case scenario, she tries to expand the boundaries of the Isle, and there are a lot of innocent people in her way. Not to mention, it'll be that much harder to take her down if she's better armed."

The three of them fell silent, and Ben watched his father expectantly. Director Kingsley was pinching the bridge of his nose, presumably cursing the day he allowed his son into this agency. "Alright," he sighed finally. "Put a freeze on Ratcliffe Inc.'s accounts. Get a search warrant. And as for Maleficent..." Ben leaned forward, waiting for the order. "...Take her down before she becomes a bigger problem."

* * *

"I really appreciate this, Mal. It's easier on me," Ben told her as he unlocked the front door of a safe house.

"How is this easier? We still have to go to the Isle - this is out of the way."

"Well, yeah, but...that's not what I meant." They stepped into the sparsely decorated, one-story building. The essentials were there - a table, a few chairs, a kitchenette. Probably a bedroom beyond one of the two closed doors off to the side. "Things are moving really fast right now, and it makes me feel better to know she's not going to kill you in your sleep if I make a mistake."

"Oh." Her stomach fluttered with a thousand irritated butterflies. They hadn't really talked - not directly - about what was going on between them. _Was _there anything going on between them? Maybe Mal was seeing things she wanted to see. The Rory scare had opened her eyes to that. Perhaps this was just Ben's personality, and she should just focus on doing the work she came here to do -

_I wonder if he would've let you kiss him that day,_ Evie mused. _How embarrassing would that have been, with everything that happened after? Are you sure you want to go through that again if he rejects you?_

Mal absolutely did not want to go through that again.

"So, um, just let me know if you need anything." He'd barely walked two steps into the house. Mal realized she was still giving off a very unwelcoming vibe.

She relaxed her shoulders and nodded. "You should get some sleep."

"Yeah." He attempted a smile. "Yeah, I will."

That _had _to be disappointment. It had to be.

"Hold on!" It was out of her mouth before she could swallow it back down. Ben released the doorknob, looking at her expectantly. "Um...is this...am I being recorded?"

"Well, there are cameras and motion-activated floodlights on all four sides of the house, and - "

"No, I mean in here. Like, are we being recorded right now?" Ben frowned in confusion. "What if I...I don't know, what if I wanted to bring a guy back here?"

"A...guy?" Ben's eyes flashed in annoyance. "You can't just bring random people into a safe house, Mal, you should know better than that. I'm sorry if that messes with your weekend plans."

In a way, she supposed, she should thank Shan Yu for keeping him up the past few nights. He never would've lost his cool if he had been well-rested. And Mal never would've gotten that confirmation. But Shan Yu and the op were the last things on her mind now. She leaned back against the table, pretending to size him up. She would probably never have the chance to get him riled again. "What if I already have?"

It took him half a second to get it, and his shock was priceless. She held his wide-eyed gaze for full _seconds _while he worked out what to do. Admittedly, Mal did get rather worried there towards the end; maybe he was coming up with a way to let her down easy and she had read him completely wrong. But instead, he walked past her and lifted the cover off a thermostat - a fake thermostat - to reveal a variety of switches underneath. He turned two of them off and then slowly replaced the cover. "It's...not feeding the camera anymore," he quietly informed the wall in front of him.

He didn't move from his spot, didn't even look at her. Mal sidled up to him, slipping into the space between him and the wall. She rested her hands on his chest and let them slide up and over his shoulders.

Ben didn't react except to close his eyes and take a deep breath. At this point, Mal couldn't tell what he wanted. Throwing caution to the wind, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

One second in, he hadn't returned the kiss. Two seconds in, he stepped back - "Mal - " The regret in his eyes nearly killed her, until he said, "I am so sorry about the way we met."

She hadn't expected that. Was he still carrying around the guilt of using Evie's death to trick her? He hadn't even mentioned it, and they'd been working together for weeks. But now, he was looking at her like he expected her to pull away in anger. Instead, she genuinely smiled. "So...make it up to me."

It was a relief to see him mirror that smile. This time, when she kissed him, he responded much more passionately than she had been braced for. Mal found herself pinned to the wall - right on top of the thermostat - "Ouch! Ben, wait, there's this thing - "

"Oh shit, sorry - "

"It's fine," Mal replied breathlessly, using the opportunity to push his suit jacket off his shoulders. Ben captured her lips again as they moved to an empty section of the wall for Mal to be pressed against. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she sighed in pleasure as his kisses traveled across her jaw and down her neck. He hooked his hands behind her thighs and hoisted her up around his hips to carry her towards the bedroom door.

"So much for getting some sleep," Ben remarked, laying her on the bed.

"I mean, you still can, if you want." Mal pulled off her shirt. "I won't bother you."

He smirked and leaned down to kiss her again. "No. I think I'll be okay."


	8. Chapter 8

**Stay safe out there, everyone. I'm sorry if the writing's a bit rushed but I figured people might want something to read while isolating!**

* * *

Mal knew she was probably being extraordinarily creepy, but she really couldn't stop watching Ben sleep. She'd woken up about five minutes ago, and propped herself up on her elbow as slowly as possible so as not to disturb him. From then on she'd just been...staring. Like a creepy creep. She was disgusted with herself, but he was just so goddamn gorgeous.

There was a scar on his shoulder she wanted to ask about later. His chest rose and fell in even, almost hypnotic waves. Some of his hair had gathered around the middle of his forehead - carefully, she brushed it aside, and he didn't even stir.

It had been a very long time since a person had meant this much to her.

She tried not to think about how scary that was, and just focused on the perfect picture in front of her and the tender moments of the night behind her. She had never felt so genuinely cared for, and wanted, and...well...

Loved.

He might not actually love her, but this warmth that remained the morning after - instead of the usual regret - had to be something. Giving into the desire to be closer to him, Mal rested her head on his chest and snuggled into the crook of his arm. The corners of her mouth twitched up when he reflexively wrapped that arm around her, muttering a bit in his sleep. Her fingers drew patterns on his skin, pausing only to make sure he wasn't waking up.

She must have fallen back asleep, because the next thing she knew, a phone was ringing. The two of them woke at the same time, instinctively searching for the source of the noise. When Ben saw her, though, he gave her a bleary smile. "Hey."

"Morning."

She chuckled as he leaned over to kiss her forehead before rolling out of bed to find the pants in which the offending device was pocketed. Comfortably situated on her pillow, she watched him answer.

"Hey, Dad." In the silence, she could hear a garbled voice on the other end, but could not make out any distinct words. So when Ben shouted "_What__?!" _she had absolutely no idea why.

Mal sat up, alarmed at the horror that painted his face. He wouldn't look at her, even after he mumbled "let me call you back" and hung up. He started dressing as quickly as he could, nearly falling over almost immediately.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "What's wrong?"

"Not sure yet." His voice sounded strained. He hadn't bothered tucking in his wrinkled shirt, only doing up about half the buttons. "Need to make a call."

"About _what, _Ben?" But he didn't answer. He left the room and closed the door behind him. Mal heard another door in the house slam shut as well. He really didn't want to be heard - maybe another mission, something she wasn't supposed to know about? There wasn't anything she could do, in that case, so she got dressed as well.

Several minutes passed while Mal twiddled her thumbs, waiting for some sort of news. When Ben came back, though, he had nothing to give her. The blood had drained from his face, and he was still making much less eye contact than normal.

"Is everything okay? Did an op go wrong?"

"Um - yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "Really wrong."

"Do you want to talk about it? Can you?" Mal padded up to him and cradled his head in her hands.

He jerked his head away. "No. It's confidential. I should get going, though." After the initial surprise, Mal couldn't pretend that didn't hurt. Ben walked away without any further explanation.

"Okay. Fine." There was a little more barb to her tone than before, but it was deserved. He was being standoffish and weird. And maybe he had somewhere to be, but there was no need for such overt rejection. It wasn't like she was asking for an hour long heart-to-heart.

Whatever. He was clearly rattled by this call.

Ben was driving away a few minutes later, without another word to her. A cold dread crept over her body, which she unsuccessfully struggled to repress. Why was he being like this? Last night - it had meant something to him, right?

It was a work thing, she kept reminding herself. No need to wallow in insecurity. He'd deal with it and he'd be back later with a smile and a kiss.

* * *

Ben returned within a couple of hours, speaking on the phone with her as he drove up to the house. "Today. It's happening today."

"The Ratcliffe deal?" The first delivery was happening sooner than they thought. Yesterday, Ben and Adam had anticipated a signed contract within a couple of weeks, and the military-grade weapons shipped soon after that. They'd thought they had a few days at least to discuss the specifics of a sting. But this - this was so fast. "She still hasn't told me anything about this. It's not like her to leave me out of plans this big, Ben!" Maybe Maleficent knew. Maybe the next time they set foot in the Isle, she would be waiting with all her shiny new weaponry trained on Mal.

"She didn't plan on doing it today. The local PD arrested John Ratcliffe late last night on a drunk driving charge, and the ACIA took custody. He's cooperating." Ben's voice still sounded strange, but Mal brushed that aside. It seemed the CEO of Ratcliffe Industries himself was working with the authorities to ambush Maleficent.

"So does that mean - " He had already ended the call.

Mal was waiting by the front door for the car to pull up, and as it did, she stormed up to his window. "What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Please get in the car, Mal." Ben had a strange expression on his face that Mal had never seen before, not on him. His own mask, she realized. He was shutting down, and she was fairly certain she knew why. It disgusted her.

She did as he asked, but made no secret of how angry she was. Her entire body twitched with the pent-up fury, ready to lash out violently given the slightest provocation. "You can cut the shit, Ben."

He pursed his lips and, of course, didn't respond. The car backed out of the driveway.

Mal gave a short bark of humorless laughter. "What are you worried about? That I think I'm your girlfriend? That I'll expect something from you? Well, relax. I don't. You're just another one night stand and I _could not care less_."

Ben's eyes stayed trained on the road. His knuckles where ghostly white where they gripped the steering wheel. "Okay," he croaked.

She genuinely couldn't believe it, though. He adopted that entire personality just to sleep with her? And now he was throwing her away? It certainly wasn't the most depraved thing Mal had ever seen, but the fact that it was coming from _him_ \- someone Mal had thought was so _different_ -

_You were tricked, _Evie told her quietly. _I'm sorry, Mal. _

The only thing keeping her eyes from misting over was the rage and self-loathing that had reappeared after a twelve-hour hiatus. It was so familiar, it was almost comforting. She would never be anything to anyone, and she hated herself and the world for it. But it had gotten her this far, and she would never again fall for something like this.

Her phone beeped with a new text message. **South side warehouse, 20 min. **"It's from Maleficent," she informed the asshole sitting next to her. Ben glanced over while stopped at a red light, and then made a U-turn. Instead of going to HQ, they were headed to the Isle. Mal might have suggested going alone so he could attend whatever pre-mission meeting they were supposed to be at, but that might have been helpful and she'd be damned if she helped him any more than necessary.

And maybe, if he missed some critical information, he'd do her a favor and die.

* * *

There was no one else outside that they could see from where they parked Ben's car. Mal kept a hand on her holster, ready to draw at a moment's notice. A prickly fear skirted the back of her neck. They were unprepared, just like the last time, but she could not afford another panic attack right now.

Ben was armed as well. He trailed behind her, eyes darting from nook to cranny to ensure they weren't being watched. If his presence was revealed too early, all could be lost - he technically was not invited to this little party.

There would be other agents here, Mal knew, lying in wait. It was her job to go in and give the signal. Yesterday, Ben had vehemently opposed this idea as it put her in too much danger. Yesterday, when he had still been pretending. She didn't want to know what his opinion on the matter was today.

So she left him behind and, before being told to, walked into the warehouse by herself.

If he cursed, she couldn't hear. She was already facing a throng of people, some unfamiliar. Shan Yu was there, hovering by Maleficent's side. Gaston and Ursula and Facilier were among the higher-ups in attendance, conversing with the uniformed, vaguely military-looking men coming from Ratcliffe Industries in low, borderline threatening tones. Maleficent glanced at Mal as she came in - "So nice of you to join us."

"I'm on time." Mal looked around, feigning confusion. "What is all this?"

"This? Oh, nothing." The older woman had been reading a piece of paper with fine print on it, but handed the document off to one of her henchmen. "Only the next step in building an empire." Turning to one of the Ratcliffe men, she said, "I'll pay half a mil for the AR-15s, AK-47s, and the grenade launchers. If they aren't complete pieces of junk, we'll talk about a bigger deal."

"We agreed on a two million dollar contract - "

"You're in my house now, dear." She smiled in that horrible, disturbing way of hers. "We agree on what I say we agree on."

Their lead negotiator was not at all pleased. "Mr. Ratcliffe will be hesitant to enter into another deal in the future."

"I doubt that very much. What other business is he getting, with all of Auradon at peace, and these lovely toys made illegal to civilians? Don't insult my intelligence." She cocked her head, still wearing her smile. "Besides, if we continue to work together, I can guarantee Auradon will not be at peace much longer."

Maleficent just needed to sign. That's all Mal had to see before she could signal for her arrest on the charge of illegal arms dealing. Her heart was pounding irregularly in her chest, and she felt faint again - _Don't. There's no one who will help you. No one, _Evie reminded her. _You have to stay focused._ The fact that this was the end game was just starting to hit her. Maleficent, currently swaggering about cockily, was going to be arrested. The drug queen herself, evil incarnate, put away for life. And all Mal had to do to make that happen was a quick hand motion.

But she was already doubting her ability to do this.

_You can, _Evie urged. _Do it for me. Do it for the only person who's ever loved you._

If anything went wrong, Mal would be dead in an instant. Maleficent did not believe in mercy, not even for her own daughter. Mal nearly jumped out of her skin as someone's phone rang. Gaston shot an apologetic look at Maleficent before answering. "Hello?"

_It's too late to back out now! _Evie persuaded as Maleficent took out a pen. The Ratcliffe men had just finished amending the contract with a sour look on their faces.

But all of a sudden, Maleficent's attention was on Gaston. For the second time that day, Mal was witness to someone's entire countenance changing with a few garbled noises. Gaston hung up quickly, staring at his boss with his jaw hanging.

"That was my son."

Maleficent snarled, "Why the hell would I care right now, Gaston?!"

"Because it was my _dead _son."

Oh, Gil. Oh stupid, stupid Gil. It took Maleficent only a half-second of connecting the dots to figure out who was to blame. "Cover the exits!" she barked. Multiple cronies scurried to obey her, but Mal was not one of them. She was paralyzed as her mother approached her, contract forgotten and eyes ablaze. "You told me he was dead."

Mal didn't have an answer. Why didn't she have an answer? Had they really not prepared for the possibility that Gil could be seen again? "I...I thought he was."

"Where did you dispose of the body, Mal?"

She had been so worried about their actual operation being exposed, she could not even begin to handle this. "In the...ocean..."

"In the ocean," Maleficent repeated, just to underline Mal's stupidity. "So you tied him in a bag, weighed it down, and threw him in? And then he came back to life, escaped like Houdini, and has been living on his own this entire time? That half-wit?" She shook her head. "I didn't know you thought I was an idiot, Mal. How very arrogant of you. Gaston, call him back." Maleficent stared Mal down, smirking as cracks appeared in Mal's impassive mask. She had truly, honestly, never been more scared in her life. The last time she'd lied to her mother, the last time she'd shown a shred of sympathy for another human being...

"Where the hell are you?" Gaston demanded. Mal prayed. She prayed like she had been a saint her whole life. _Please, Gil, don't tell him. _"A police officer took you where?!"

The cold metal of a gun barrel pressed against Mal's forehead. Maleficent considered her with cold, dead eyes. "I knew something was off about you, lately. I'd hate to be right. And I'd _really _hate to find out police are involved. You have three seconds to get your story straight, girl. I am not playing games."

She didn't know. She couldn't come up with a believable lie that wouldn't contradict itself.

"Three."

An image of Ben flashed before her eyes. Surprisingly, it saddened her more than angered her. However little she mattered to him, he'd had quite an impact on her. And she'd never said good-bye.

"Two."

She should have. She should've said it the minute the dread had kicked in. Somehow, Mal had guessed that this was the day her mother would kill her. The thought had a peculiar, calming effect. Maybe she'd always known - like it was destiny, written in stone. In any universe, in any timeline, this was the inevitable outcome. And she'd happily do it again, she realized. If she could choose to get justice for Evie or walk away, she would take the opportunity to lock Maleficent in jail, even though it would cost her her life. She was no longer afraid. Perhaps Ben was right, and she was stronger than she knew.

"One."

Mal closed her eyes, strangely at peace with her imminent death. After all, there was a chance she'd see Evie again.

She stiffened as she heard the gunshot, felt the spatter of blood on her face - but there was no pain. Not even a little. She opened her eyes only to see that a giant hole had opened up on the side of Maleficent's head. Her mother's expression was frozen on her face as she crumpled to the ground, dead. On instinct, Mal swiveled her head to where the gunshot had most likely come from. Ben was standing about fifty feet away, half-hidden by a stack of boxes, his gun still pointed at where Maleficent had stood.

A tenth of a second and a million years passed simultaneously. Then chaos broke out. Mal dropped to the ground as bullets started flying, and crawled to the closest cover she could find - a table, which she overturned. She allowed herself to reorient for a moment, listening to the newly arrived ACIA agents take down whoever had been guarding the exits, and then moving inwards. The shootout continued, though, which meant those agents had to find cover themselves. So many people were yelling - commands, profanities, cries, pleas - she couldn't distinctly focus on any one. A bullet tore through her table, missing her by inches. She was not safe here. It would take all of her guile and skill to get out of this alive.

And yet, a much-needed part of her brain had decided to fret about Ben instead.

_It doesn't matter, _said Evie. _You can't do anything for him if you're dead._

Mal crawled again, though despite her low position a bullet had still grazed her back. She grit her teeth against the sting and kept moving. Another stack of boxes became her new makeshift base from which to assess the situation. Many people were still shouting. Blocking out the excess noise, Mal spied a door not more than a dozen yards away from her. It led to a smaller storage area, she knew, which didn't have an exit but would still be a good hideout while the ACIA cleaned up this mess. She could make it. She would just wait for a short lull in the shooting...

Someone nearly fell on top of her, also scrambling to find safety. Mal had her gun out and aimed before she realized it was Ben, and that this had been no accident. He'd been looking for her, and he'd been shot in the process.

There was a wound on his shoulder that didn't look serious - his sleeve was bloody, but not dripping. His right leg, however, was a different story. He'd been hit in the upper thigh and the bullet had clearly grazed something important, because blood was literally spurting from the injury. Ben was trying to clamp it down with his hand, but it wasn't doing much good. And he didn't seem to care.

"Mal - " he gasped, "you need to run. You can't be here."

"What?" She was understandably distracted by...well, everything.

"Your immunity, they - they didn't approve - you're supposed to be arrested here. Now." He repositioned his hand ineffectively. "You have to run."

His words weren't quite making sense to her. All she could focus on was the pool of blood spreading under him, and the trail he'd left behind him. "You're going to bleed out," she realized.

"I'll be fine." He lied so easily. Of course he did. "Just go!"

Maybe she needed to leave, but she sure as hell wasn't going to. The distance to her planned hideout was still doable with an injured Ben in tow, she believed. And the lull she'd been waiting for was here. "Don't argue, or I'll knock you out and you'll be a dead weight for me." Putting his good arm around her shoulders, Mal forced him onto his feet. They ran for the side room, though Ben's right leg wouldn't move and he had to resort to hopping.

The shooting started up again just as they reached their destination. Mal wasted no time in closing and locking the door behind them, though that wouldn't last long should someone choose to assault it with bullets.

This room was littered with boxes as well. Mal had dropped Ben against one of the crates and now turned her attention back to him, for the first time seeing that he was undeniably paler. This wasn't deterring him from his singular, urgent goal. "Mal, please...you need to run. Now."

"Shut up. Just shut up." Mal had had multiple crash courses in bullet injuries over the years. Sometimes it was a simple "suck it up". Other times, the bleeding was too severe to ignore. And worst were the cases, like this, where the victim had minutes to live and giving up was a practical alternative. If it had been anyone else, Mal would have left it alone, especially in the middle of an active firefight. But no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't. Not when it was Ben. Not after he had just saved her life.

She tore a strip of cloth off of Ben's shirt. He winced when she lifted his leg to thread the cloth underneath, and again when she tied it tightly around the limb. A part of her found that quite satisfying. The bleeding, however, hadn't stopped, merely slowed to a pulsating stream. Even when she attempted to tie it tighter, the vessel stubbornly continued spilling onto the floor and all over Mal.

"They'll come for...you." He couldn't even get through a sentence without needing to breathe. They were gasping breaths, but he was trying to minimize them - like he thought maybe she wouldn't notice. "Please...please go."

Mal ignored him. How was she going to stop this? Ben couldn't afford to lose any more blood. At this point, his eyelids were drooping. Mal slapped him, perhaps more lightly than he deserved. "Hey! Stay with me!"

His eyes rolled forward again, focusing on her. "Mal...you're in danger..."

"No shit." Mal had done a lot of terrible things in her life. She'd killed, maimed, tortured...but she wasn't sure she had the stomach for what she needed to do here. "I have to burn it, Ben."

He didn't respond, now soundly out cold. Mal cursed and looked around for something, anything, that she could use. The boxes would contain drugs, booze, ammo -

Alcohol.

Mal found the various liquor boxes quite easily, as they were all labeled. She smashed a bottle of the highest proof absinthe on the ground, as far away from Ben as possible. Mal took a few steps back and then let out a deep breath before aiming her gun at the puddle of alcohol. "Please work."

And it did. The second her bullet made contact with the flammable liquid, a flame leaped up from the ground, dancing and spreading as far as the puddle would allow. Mal had cleared the area of anything else that might burn easily, but nonetheless, the fire would spread. She had to move quickly.

She couldn't think of another conduit besides the barrel of her gun. More cloth was torn, this time from her sleeve, to be wrapped around the handle before the metal was heated over the flame.

A loud thud sounded against the door. Mal's head whipped around, eyes wide as she saw the handle jiggle. Someone had heard her gun. _We're out of time! _Evie fretted.

"ACIA! Open up!" The voice was muffled, but loud enough that Mal could hear it.

She rushed over to Ben and tried to detach herself from what she was doing. Tried not to hear the hiss and pop of cauterization. Tried not to smell the burning flesh. Ben jerked violently, but that was his only reaction - he was still unconscious, thank God. Had he felt that pain, she probably would have vomited. As it was, the bleeding had slowed to a mere trickle, and for her, that was good enough.

Going back through that door was out of the question - they had started shooting the lock. Her only other escape was a window on the opposite wall. She would be able to bust through it with a heavy enough object.

Mal took one last look at Ben. Ghostly white, sweating, dead to the world. She couldn't do anything more for him, she told herself. Still, it took every last ounce of willpower to leave him there.

When the ACIA finally made it through, they found only a dying agent, a frolicking fire, and a broken window. Mal had disappeared into the wind.

* * *

Less than twenty-four hours later, a blonde woman with a hood over her head tapped her fingers impatiently at the front desk of Auradon General Hospital. "I have an appointment. For an x-ray."

"Hmm. Normally they do those at the outpatient center." The clerk received a blank stare. "Well, the radiology department is on the second floor, make a right off the elevators." She held out a visitor's pass.

"Thanks," came the casual answer. "Lotta cops here today, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Good thing you're not going to the fifth floor. That's where most of them are."

So naturally, that was exactly where Mal went. It was relatively easy to follow the gradient of federal officers as it became more and more dense, approaching what could only be Ben's room. With her hair dyed back to its original color, a few scarves and hats stuffed in strategic locations to make her look bigger than she was, a pair of sunglasses to hide her bright green eyes, and her trusty visitor's pass, Mal got through most of the bustle. She was almost there when she was stopped.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. This area is closed to - " The agent in question looked more closely at her. Mal took a step back, but it was too late. The badge came out. "You! You're under arrest!"

Mal had nowhere to run. She'd known this was a possibility - no, a probability. She had a plan to escape custody - but her desperate need to see Ben, after spending hours scrubbing his blood off her face and arms and hands and not quite believing he could still be alive, that was going to be left unfulfilled -

"Let her through." Surprised, she peeked over the shoulder of her arresting agent to see a grave-faced Director Kingsley waving aside his protective detail. "He's been asking to see you."

Mal wasted no time pushing past the two men and entering the small, dark hospital room, taking off her sunglasses so her eyes could adjust to the dim lighting. Ben was lying in bed with his eyes closed, hooked up to monitors that beeped reassuringly. As she approached, though, his eyes opened. His smile lit up the room and stopped her heart. "Mal. You're okay."

She nodded, a lump forming in her throat. He reached out for her and she took his hand, without really realizing she was doing it. "Did they - did they operate on you?"

"Yeah. And gave me a ton of blood. But they said none of it would've mattered if you hadn't done what you did." He squeezed her hand. "You saved my life, Mal."

That was all she needed to know. All she wanted to hear. And now, she could go. "I'm skipping town," she told him quietly. "It's only a matter of time before the Dragons find me here."

"We can protect you," Ben responded, confident. Once upon a time, she would have believed him.

"I think you've...done enough, honestly. I've always been better off on my own." Mal slipped her hand out of Ben's grasp, ignoring the way his confusion took on a desperate, pleading feel.

"Mal - "

"I just came to say goodbye, Ben."

"Mal, wait!" He sat up and lunged for her, but she was already out of his reach.

"Stop." Her voice was just a whisper. "You'll hurt yourself."

The look on his face was like a dagger to the chest. Was he pulling strings, or was he really that devastated? Yes, Mal's feelings were muddled and somewhat overshadowed by her situation, but she knew one thing for sure. Ben was definitely _something more _to her, whether or not she was to him. She hoped he wouldn't always be, because if she had her way - this was the last time she'd ever see him.

Her exit was once again stopped by Adam. The director cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "Listen, Mal. I should thank you, for saving my son, and obviously your immunity status will be re - "

"It should've been you," growled Mal, jerking her head at Ben's hospital bed. Her eyes had misted over, but the fact that this soulless parasite had the audacity to _talk _to her, like she cared about _anything_ he had to say, brought rage swirling back. "And if it had been you, I wouldn't have lifted a finger."

Adam had the good sense not to reply. Mal's shoulder knocked into his on the way out, one last act of petty revenge. She didn't have time for anything more. The Green Dragons knew she had worked with the police, indirectly leading to the death of Maleficent. They would be looking for her, intent on completing what would have been Maleficent's final murder.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi friends! Could really use some feedback on this chapter. I felt it didn't make the most sense, but I was a little bit at a loss. Let me know how I could have fixed it!**

* * *

Mal had gotten herself on a late-night bus to Charmington, where she settled into a seat close to the driver. Should someone unsavory make their way onto this bus, she'd have a better chance of getting off alive if the door was only a few feet away.

She did survey the occupants before sitting down, though. No one she recognized. Good.

The doors closed, but Mal didn't relax until the bus was on the highway. Now, at least, it couldn't stop for any last-minute passengers/assassins. For the first time in the past day, she had a second to just sit and process the events of the last twenty four hours. She stared out the window at the sparse traffic, watching a few raindrops hit the window pane.

It was still hard for her to believe her mother was dead. She'd seen it with her own eyes, and yet, Maleficent had the kind of vengeful spirit that lived on in the minds of those she'd tortured, Mal most of all. A part of her was giddy with relief, but only a part. She knew she'd never truly be rid of her mother's influence.

Even now, she was being hunted as if Maleficent herself had ordered a hit on her. Everyone had seen Mal accused of working with the police just before Ben, with the calm efficiency of a trained spy, had fired that fateful shot and the ACIA had come rushing in. Everyone knew Mal had been lying through her teeth for as long as Ben had been around. And whoever hadn't been at the scene had probably heard by now, from those who had escaped. Maleficent was dead, the Green Dragons crippled, and it was all Mal's fault.

And Gil! Stupid Gil, finding a way to contact Gaston because he couldn't understand why he shouldn't. Mal very much wanted to kill Gil herself. She had no doubt someone would be dispatched to find him and make him talk, which would only confirm that Mal had personally handed him over to the Witness Protection Program.

She was a dead woman walking. Though they were concentrated in the Isle, the Green Dragons had an extensive network. Mal would be running for the rest of her life, constantly looking over her shoulder and covering her tracks. They'd never forgive or forget what she'd done.

Mal rested her head against the seat behind her, closing her eyes for a half-second. She hadn't slept in twenty-four hours. Her first stop after the shootout had been her house, to gather up whatever cash she could. There was quite a bit of it around the house, which was the only silver lining in this apocalyptic storm. After she'd transformed her appearance and stocked up on essentials, her next goal had been finding Ben. She kept seeing him in her head - shooting Maleficent with grim resolve, passing out from blood loss, urging her to save herself. But then she remembered the cold stiffness with which he'd rejected her, multiple times, earlier that same day. She didn't know which one was real - all she knew was that she couldn't trust him.

And yet, she'd brought herself to that hospital, against every survival instinct telling her not to go. She had to see him one last time, get the closure that he would be fine. And that, right then, was when her old life had ended.

* * *

Mal jerked awake as the bus rolled to a stop, a robotic female voice announcing their arrival in Charmington. It was about one in the morning and there were only four or five other people on the bus. She cursed - she should've been more vigilant, unless she wanted to get herself killed.

Her plan was to stay in a motel, get some rest, and then continue to travel as far from the Isle as she could. Maybe even keep traveling, for as long as the target on her back remained. She didn't know how far her money would take her before she would need to get creative, but if she was smart, she could budget for several weeks. She certainly didn't need a five-star resort every night.

She found a perfect, run-down little setup just outside of downtown Charmington. Mal specifically requested a room on the second floor, hopefully eliminating the possibility of a surprise attack from the window. The bed was nothing special, but she was used to sleeping on the floor and intended to do so for as long as she needed to. First, though, she stuffed pillows under the blanket to give the impression of a sleeping human to anyone who wasn't looking all that closely. Then, she settled down beside the bed, hidden from the door.

A few hours passed before the door creaked open. Soft footsteps made their way into the room, with Mal none the wiser. She was fast asleep, still exhausted from dealing with one of the worst days of her life. Her eyes flew open, though, when three gunshots sounded in quick succession. All three bullets buried themselves in the pillows serving as her surrogate.

Mal was quick to retaliate, pulling out her knives and revealing herself only a split second before throwing one of the blades. It was dark, and she was fumbling, so she only grazed her attacker and the weapon buried itself in the motel wall. The intruder ran, leaving the door wide open behind them in their haste to escape. Mal jumped up, only following far enough to make sure there were no accomplices waiting in the shadows. She stuck only her head outside, taking note of the fleeing figure - he or she was alone. Mal closed the door again and sat on the bed, trying to calm her racing heart.

She'd been found already. More would come, not to mention the police that would undoubtedly be called by the terrified inhabitants of the neighboring rooms after those booming gunshots. She hadn't even unpacked, so picking up what little she had and pulling her knife out of the wall, she crept out of the room and made for the train station. She'd catch the earliest train out of Charmington, and from there...who knew.

* * *

The next night passed without any further incident, though Mal knew her trick with the pillows wouldn't work a second time. She instead locked herself in the bathroom with a pillow and blanket and slept fitfully in the tub. It would be a miracle if she ever got a good night's sleep again.

But the night after that was even stranger than her first. Again, she woke to the sound of gunshots - but they were outside her room. Listening carefully after all had gone silent, she concluded after about fifteen minutes that the commotion had not been about her. The area around this budget hotel didn't seem too bad, though - what were the chances of two marks being in the same place on the same night? Slowly, Mal unlocked the bathroom door and peeked outside. Her room was undisturbed. Still, she tiptoed to the window overlooking the parking lot - nothing out of the ordinary. Taking a deep breath, Mal opened the door to look outside and saw -

Nothing. No one was there. No sign that there had been a firefight at all, except for one bullet hole in the door. Even the casings had been picked up. There wasn't a drop of blood to be seen - so no one had been injured or killed. What the hell had happened?

She didn't have an answer, but she knew she had to leave again. Perhaps this had been a run of the mill crime, but she couldn't take that chance.

Mal moved north, to Arendelle. Within a couple of nights, the same thing occurred - a scuffle outside her door, with no trace of the combatants when she worked up the courage to check. Nothing but a minor inconvenience in that she needed to disappear. It was confusing and frightening, because while she could handle assassins, she did not even know what she was dealing with here.

It took her a couple of weeks to realize she was being followed by a car. An all-black, unmarked sedan with windows tinted so dark she couldn't see the driver. The license plates had been changed at least once since she'd first seen it a few days before, but it had the same scuff marks above one of the wheels from a bad parking job. Mal considered approaching it more than once, but thought better of it and watched instead. Eventually, someone in a suit exited the car to go to a vending machine. That was all the confirmation Mal needed - the ACIA was tracking her, too.

* * *

The skirmishes that happened every other night - if not nightly - were taking their toll on her. She slept with one eye open, resulting in dark circles under both. She didn't know how long she could keep this up, especially since the lack of sleep messed with her ability to stay alert and think quickly.

Often, there were gunshots. Sometimes just shouts. Once in a while, someone made it into her room, in which case she would dispose of them quickly. But Mal had learned her lesson - if the ACIA was on her tail, she couldn't leave any dead bodies. No, these attackers were simply injured and knocked out, then rolled up in bed sheets or carpets and tied down so they couldn't escape before she had a hefty head start. In this way, she'd caught Uma one night and Anthony Tremaine on another after they'd been gracious enough to make the trip to see her, and attempt to murder her.

"What the hell is going on?" she'd demanded of them. "Why are the Dragons sending people just to scare me, and not even try to kill me?"

Her questions had only been met with looks of confusion. "_Everyone_ is trying to kill you," Uma had told her, sneering. "The person who does takes Maleficent's place. And it's going to be me."

"Sure." The other girl had been pinned down and obviously not in the position to make those kinds of statements. "Cruella is next in line, but yeah. They'll just hand over power to _you._"

Uma had frowned. "Don't play games with me, Mal. You killed Cruella."

That had been news to her. "You're the one playing games, Uma! Who the hell told you I killed Cruella?"

"All I know is that whoever goes after you doesn't come back! But I'm putting an end to that!" Their fight had begun anew, with Uma throwing Mal off of her. Knowing she had seconds before Uma reached her gun, Mal had yanked at a lamp and chucked it at Uma's head. Her rival had crumpled, unconscious and bleeding, but not dead. By the time she was arrested, Mal was long gone.

The ACIA car continued to show up at various motel parking lots. Mal didn't understand why they didn't just arrest her already, if they were going through all the trouble of tailing her. Just before she'd practically spit in Director Kingsley's face, he'd been saying something about her immunity - had he seen it through after all? Was she in the clear? Or was it back in court, being debated, and any minute now the order could come through to take her prisoner? Assuming the latter was more likely, Mal tried to shake the agents any chance she got. A few times, she was successful, but they always came back.

The worst part about seeing them was that she was constantly reminded of Ben. She knew that the sooner she forgot about him, the better. And yet, her mind and heart had latched onto that smile, those warm reassurances, that tender embrace. Every waking moment not spent ensuring her survival was consumed with thoughts of him. What was he doing now? Was he alright? Did he ever think of her? Did he even care?

Clearly not, because the agents in the car were never him. Mal didn't know why she continued to kid herself. She'd never been anything to him except a means to an end, a way to take Maleficent down and fix the screwed-up legacy of his family. How was that a surprise? She'd never been anything to anyone. It didn't make sense that that would change now.

_But he was so upset to see you go in the hospital, _Evie argued. _And before that, h__e wouldn't even kiss you because he was so guilty about using me to get to you. And he always, always believed in you, more than anyone has in years. _

Lies, Mal told herself. All lies. She knew from their first meeting that he was a smooth talker - it was his job. She should never have trusted a word that came out of his mouth. At first, she blamed herself for falling for him and his perfectly crafted persona. But then, she realized, it was only karma. She'd lived a life of cruelty, and now, someone had turned that cruelty around on her tenfold. Made her feel like she was worth something, only to laugh in her face when she started to believe it.

Every time she saw that car, it hit her like a sledgehammer. _You're nothing but a criminal. Nothing but scum. No one will ever want you, least of all him._

* * *

After two months, Mal was running dangerously low on cash. The assassination attempts were fewer and farther in between, but they were still coming. She wasn't even close to safe yet.

Seaside was not a particularly expensive town, thank goodness, so her dingy motel room didn't break the bank. She had some dollar-store ramen for dinner - her diet had gone to shit - and prepared for yet another night of waiting and watching and not-quite-sleeping. She hummed an inane tune to herself as she pushed a chair against the door and underneath the handle - an extra precaution that would alert her to more intruders. For some reason, the song made her chuckle.

_You're delirious, _Evie told her, only to be ignored. Mal was well aware. She was at the point now where car horns made her jump, and her own eyes deceived her with shadows at the corners of her vision. It was harder every day to pull herself together.

One last check out the window. The ACIA car wasn't there today - she must've lost it back in Corona. Satisfied, Mal settled into the tub, asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Naturally, though, she woke up to the sound of someone jiggling the doorknob to the motel room. The noise stopped, but Mal knew someone was outside. _Beyond_ irritated that her sleep was being interrupted again, she ditched the sensible notion that she shouldn't look too closely at a situation that was benefiting her, and instead had the truly terrible idea that this time, she would try to see what mysterious happenings kept taking place. But as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, she started at the sound of breaking glass - the window next to the door had been shattered, and someone was climbing in through it.

"Stop!" she shouted, knives at the ready. "Don't move."

Despite her clear instructions, the person straightened. The pistol at his waist was aimed right at her. "Hello, love."

"Harry," snarled Mal. What were the Dragons thinking, sending Harry Hook to take care of Mal? He hardly stood a chance. Even now, he hadn't fired a shot despite having her nearly at point-blank range. "I'm going to enjoy carving your eyes out."

"Doubt ye'll get the chance, lass." He smirked, extending his arm so the barrel was now at her eye level. Mal weighed her options - how was she going to disarm him and gain the upper hand? This would be so much easier if her brain wasn't in a fog. And why did his trigger finger have yet to move? "I'm sorry I've got tae do this. But ye've left us with no choice."

"You have a choice. Run or die." Harry didn't know that Mal had unofficially sworn off killing people until she was sure the ACIA couldn't find her again, but why bore him with those details? She let her blades flash in the light threateningly.

"Die fightin' ye like my dear old dad? Nae, love. I know better. I knew from the beginning that little bastard was a narc, and I know now that - "

"Your dad is dead?" Mal interrupted, unintentionally relaxing her stance. "Since when?"

He had the same, furrowed-brow expression of bewilderment as Uma. "Since ye killed him, ye right psycho!"

Mal and Harry's standoff had turned into an exchange of disbelieving looks. Hook was dead? Uma had told her Cruella was dead, too. Who was killing all of these high ranking Dragons? It certainly wasn't her - at least, she didn't think so. Surely she wasn't tired enough to forget _that_. "Put the gun down. We need to talk about this."

"I'm no interested in talking." His hand shook a bit, and at the same time, his voice cracked. He didn't want to hurt her, Mal realized, or he would've done it already. And for the first time, she wondered if all that swaggering and flirting had had something more behind it.

"I didn't kill your dad, Harry," she said quietly. Hopefully she could lull him into a false sense of security -

"Then where the bloody hell is he?!" That wasn't happening. Harry gesticulated wildly with the gun, and it took all of Mal's willpower not to make any sudden moves away from his flailing weapon.

"I don't know!" Now what was she supposed to do? "There's something else going on here!"

"No, there isn't." There was a very real sadness in his eyes as he took his aim one final time, visibly steeling himself for what had to be done. But before he could pull the trigger, a buzzing sound filled the air and Harry jerked like he'd been whacked from behind. His eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the floor, seizing. Behind him, outside the window, an agent Mal recognized as Lonnie Li stood with a taser.

"He's down," Agent Li said, apparently to no one in particular. Mal could only look on in surprise. Not because the ACIA had found her again, but because this was the first time any of the agents had bothered to interact with her. Maybe today was the day they finally brought out the cuffs. How many agents were there? Mal craned her neck to try to figure that out while Agent Li entered through the window and removed the chair from the door. She appeared to be alone.

"Are you going to arrest me?" Mal demanded.

The agent smiled. "No. Not today, anyway." She opened the door.

Mal heard the rhythmic _thunk, thunk _of wood on concrete, alternating with footsteps, before the last person she wanted to see filled the doorway. Ben glanced at Harry, who was moaning on the floor. "Would you take care of him, Lonnie?" The other woman nodded, practically hoisting Harry up and half-carrying him out of the room. Ben stepped aside to let her through and then looked at Mal. "He slipped under our radar. Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

She just stared at him in shock. He didn't look all that much better than the last time she'd seen him, lying in the hospital bed. His color had returned, but he was sporting the same dark circles under his eyes that Mal was. In his right hand he held a white-topped black cane, which he was partially leaning on for support. His clothes hung a little loosely around him, not achieving the perfectly tailored look he'd worn in the past. But when he smiled, Mal's heart still skipped a beat.

"I'm going to sit down, if that's okay. Still a little difficult getting around." With every step, his right foot dragged on the ground, giving him a fairly severe limp. He flopped onto the bed, sighing and examining his cane. "I really hate this thing. Makes me feel like a wannabe Bond villain. My physical therapist says I'm stuck with it for another six weeks at least, though. This, or crutches."

She blinked multiple times, and the image in front of her didn't fade away - but that didn't mean she wasn't really delirious and hallucinating. He was just...talking to her. Like everything was normal. Like she wasn't a fugitive, and he wasn't here to...what, exactly? "What are you doing here?" Mal's voice came out as a croak, her vocal cords as frozen in place as the rest of her.

In a more serious tone, Ben explained, "I'm here to take you home, Mal." Again, she was speechless. "We believe we've tracked down and arrested every known adult member of the Green Dragons - though there's always a possibility there are more. But I think it's safe for you to come back to Auradon - we can put you up in a different safe house, put a detail on you - "

Her head was spinning, her thoughts disorganized. _I haven't brushed my hair in a week and a half. What is he saying? Ben is RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Going back to Auradon? I need to get out. I don't have an exit._

Mal clutched at her head to ease the dizziness, but it didn't work. Ben noticed her distress, however, and stopped blathering for a few seconds. "What the _hell _is going on?" Mal murmured, mostly to herself.

"Sorry. I know there/s a lot to catch you up on. I can start from the last time I saw you," he told her gently. "Obviously, I've got some nerve damage in my leg, so I couldn't come out into the field anymore. But I was coordinating a team that had two jobs - to keep you safe, and to pick up anyone who came to find you. Members of this team have been following you around the continent - and by the way, they want to thank you for making it so damn difficult." He grinned. "Jokes aside, though, we didn't realize how determined the Dragons were to kill you. They've sent someone nearly every night, but with a little help from you, all of them are in our custody. They weren't allowed any contact with the outside world apart from a lawyer, so they couldn't report back and let the other Dragons know what the ACIA was doing. Made it a lot easier to ambush them." With a shrug, he concluded, "I know you wanted me to stay out of it, but I couldn't abandon you like that. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

It was so much to process. Slowly, the pieces were coming together for her, but there were other pieces - big pieces - that prevented her from seeing the full picture. _What is he REALLY doing here? He must need you for something else, and he's trying to lure you back to Auradon. And he's dressing it up like he's your savior. Don't fall for it. He's only ever used you, because he knows he can. _

She couldn't even hear Evie. That voice sounded a lot like her mother's.

Ben chuckled. "I've been waiting forever to see you again, and you don't have a single insulting comment for me? Maybe you'll be more talkative when we're on our way home."

"Home," Mal repeated quietly. Her gaze was unfocused, on the floor, but that word made her vision swim. He kept saying it. And he knew better. "I don't have a home."

His smile faded. "What?"

"I don't have a home." Her hands dropped to her sides, and she fixed him with an accusatory stare. "I don't have _anything_. You took everything from me."

This was clearly not the response he had been expecting. "Mal, what are you talking about?"

_That's right. Tell him. Tell him everything you haven't been able to say for months! Tell him you won't take any more shit from him, no matter what your feelings are!_ that nasty little voice in her head goaded. "I was stupid enough to trust you and now look where I am. Look at what's happened to me!" Her voice rose and rose. "I have _nothing,_ and now you're back? What more could you want? What more can you take from me?!"

Ben gaped like a fish. Horror was written across his features. "Mal, I don't understand! I'm not - I'm not here to take anything from you, I want you to be _safe_! I want you to come back with me!"

"With you?" She laughed bitterly. "Why on Earth would I ever want to be anywhere near you again?" Half of her delighted in his despair. The other half was being ripped apart. "Why should I believe anything you have to say? Are you going to tell me the truth?"

He stood up, as difficult as it was for him. "Of course, Mal. I'm telling you the truth now!" he implored.

"Then tell me what that phone call was. The morning after." He knew what she was talking about. She could tell by the way his face fell and his eyes wouldn't make contact with hers anymore. "I know it was your dad. Tell me what he told you!"

"That doesn't matter any - "

"_Tell me!_"

He still paused. Still tried to get out of it. Still tried to lie, the bastard. "It was..." He bit his lip. "It was an order to arrest you. Your immunity had been denied. But I...I couldn't do it. My father told me that you would be arrested with everyone else at the contract signing - "

He made eye contact again in a hurry when he heard the telltale _click_ of a safety being turned off. Mal had her gun pointed right at him. Even though her hands were shaking, a bullet from this close would kill him in the blink of an eye. "Get out."

"Mal, calm down! I spent that entire day trying to think of a way out of it! We would've figured something out - "

"Get. The hell. Out." She brought a second hand to steady her first, but now both of them were shaking. "This is the last time I'm asking. I never want to see you, or any of your agents, ever again. Do you understand?"

"Mal - "

She aimed off to the side and pulled the trigger. Ben jumped out of his skin at the explosive noise and threw his hands up when the gun barrel came back to him.

"Ben!" The voice came from outside. Lonnie rushed in, ready to fire as well.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I'm fine!" Ben yelled. "I'm leaving. Okay? You've made your point, Mal, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. We're leaving, Lonnie." He held Mal's gaze as he limped out of the room slowly, devastation and betrayal hanging between them like a curtain. Mal followed his path with the gun, refusing to relax until the door closed behind him.

She dropped the gun, which hit the ground with a clatter. At that moment, Mal realized how much every muscle in her body ached. She was so, so tired. Everything that had started to make sense was shot to hell again. Her mind was fraying, her emotions destroying her. She began to think it really wouldn't be so bad if one of the remaining Dragons - were there any? Had he been lying about _that_? - found her here and murdered her. As long as she finally got to sleep.

She collapsed onto the bed and did not move again until the next day.

* * *

Thank goodness it hadn't rained. Mal's window was still very much broken. As it was, the sun woke her up around midday. She remained in bed for another hour, replaying the night before like a bad dream.

Had she made a mistake? Or had she done the right thing? The more she thought about it with a clear head, the deeper the pit of dread in her stomach got. Whatever Ben said had been consistent with what she'd experienced, and what Uma and Harry had described. The members of the Green Dragons had been picked up, one by one, right at her doorstep, with everyone back home assuming Mal had killed them. The ACIA agents hadn't done anything to her, except follow her around - apparently to protect her.

And of course Ben hadn't contacted her. She'd told him she didn't want his help, back when she had also said her goodbyes. He'd done an excellent job of keeping her safe, but a piss-poor job of keeping it a secret. It wasn't like the agents hadn't tried to escape her notice, but Mal had been living a life of crime since day one, and she knew cops when she saw them.

So Ben had orchestrated this entire elaborate plan with the goal of returning Mal to Auradon, and she'd pulled a gun on him. Mal desperately searched for any reason, from their conversation or from his operation, that would have given her the right to do that, but came up blank. Why, why would her brain let her remember the absolute heartbreak with which Ben had left her room, when it hadn't let her process anything the day before in a reasonable manner? Why had she taken out all of her anger and frustration out on him? Because there was a chance that he could hurt her if she let him back in? Well, if she really had been so worried about anyone ever getting close to her again, she didn't have to worry any more. After what happened yesterday, she'd be lucky if Ben could even think about her without cursing her name.

Disgusted with herself, Mal swung her legs over the side of the bed and found herself staring out the broken window. Upon closer inspection, she saw a black car with heavily tinted windows in the parking lot. A flare of annoyance rose within her before she quelled it. Yes, she'd told Ben to take his agents away, but she wasn't really in a position to be mad at him right now. Instead, she decided to go down and talk to them herself.

Two agents stepped out of the car as she approached. She didn't know either of them, but they clearly knew about her. Both of them had their hands on their holsters, ready for a quick draw. Mal held up her hands. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What a relief," the man grumbled sarcastically. His partner, a petite woman even shorter than Mal, shot him a look.

Mal ignored their exchange. "I told Ben I didn't want agents tailing me anymore."

"Yeah." The woman shifted uncomfortably. "We're not here on Ben's orders. We're here on the Director's."

"Director Kingsley?" Mal confirmed, surprised. "Why?"

"We're just doing what we were told to do. Take it up with the Director if you have a problem with it." This man clearly did not want to be here.

"_Chad!_"

"What, Jane? He's got us protecting a criminal who _nearly shot Ben _yesterday. Excuse me if I'm not thrilled!"

The barb stung worse than it should have. That's what everyone would know her as, now. That's how Ben would remember her. The criminal who almost shot him. "Is he okay? Ben?" she asked Jane directly.

"He's...not hurt," came the careful reply.

Mal probed further. "He didn't look good. Is he sick?"

"Probably," Chad remarked snidely. "Working twenty hours a day for months will do that to you. But he was just _so intent _on cleaning up your gang's mess."

_And on bringing me home_, Mal realized. The guilt just cut deeper and deeper. What had she done?

Jane seemed to have a slightly better read on the situation, and her tone was significantly less acidic. "Why _did _you shoot at him? I mean, he kept insisting you wouldn't have, but Lonnie heard the gun go off..."

Mal could hardly focus on the woman in front of her. _He kept insisting you wouldn't have. _"I wouldn't have. He knows...he knows I don't use guns." But Lonnie hadn't. If Ben hadn't stopped her in time...Mal would be dead. And that had been the point - leave, or Lonnie would be forced to shoot her. Mal hadn't realized that was the message she'd been sending, but Ben had known. He'd understood it had never been about hurting him. "I've changed my mind," Mal said suddenly. "I want to go back to Auradon."


	10. Chapter 10

**Final chapter! Thank you guys for your comments on the last chapter. I hope this chapter explains things a little more. Also hope everyone is staying safe!**

* * *

_He kept insisting that you wouldn't have_.

Mal clutched onto these few words like a lifeline. She had to believe that Ben hadn't given up on her.

Still, a very large portion of her brain was telling her to run away, like she'd originally planned. _Run and don't look back. He doesn't want to see you. He doesn't want anything to do with you. No one would, after what you've done. You had him staring down the barrel of a gun, like the monster you really are._

It took every ounce of hope Mal had left in her to argue with that voice. The voice that sounded like her mother. _He knows I was bluffing. He knows I would've let Lonnie shoot me before I ever hurt him. _After all, that was why he agreed to leave, wasn't it? He'd been bargaining with her up until the point Agent Li came rushing in ready to fire, endangering Mal's life. _Yes. Yes, absolutely. He knew the whole time I'd never shoot him._ And if it turned out that she was wrong, that he rejected her one final time, she could always run then. Hurt and despair wouldn't impede her ability to disappear forever.

_It'll kill you, though. If you see that hatred on his face, it will destroy you._

Mal set her jaw and stared out the car window at the scenery rushing by. Her stomach was in knots, her heart beating erratically. Every so often, she'd realize her fists were clenched so hard that her knuckles had turned white and her nails were digging into the skin of her palm. She'd try to relax, to no avail.

Thankfully, after a few failed efforts to talk on Jane's part, the two agents left her pretty much alone. This had the unfortunate side effect of dragging out every second for eons, but Mal was too busy fighting her internal battle to talk. Only when the first of the city's skyscrapers towered over them did she ask how far out they were.

"Two minutes."

_I can't do this. I can't face him. _The thought became louder and louder the closer they got - by the time they had stepped into ACIA HQ, she was drowning in her fears. Her racing mind came to a screeching halt, however, when they passed by Ben's office. There was no one there.

From the quick glance she had through the glass, Mal had seen documents and mugshots - Dragons' mugshots - and satellite images all tacked up around the office, with a big blank space where some of them had been taken down. Ben had been in the middle of cleaning up, it seemed, now that the operation had come to a close. If she hadn't already known, the mess would have made it painfully obvious how much time and effort he'd been putting in over the last several weeks. But where was he? Had he heard she was coming, and decided he didn't want to meet her?

The three of them walked past multiple agents' offices and into the largest room at the end of the hall. Director Kingsley awaited them. He was standing behind his desk, visibly uncomfortable. With a nod, he dismissed Chad and Jane, who closed the door behind them.

Mal did not currently have the patience for thick, tense silences, which were inevitable after her last confrontation with this man. "Where is Ben?"

The director checked his watch. "He had a physical therapy appointment at five. I imagine he's there now."

She hadn't expected something so...mundane. It was certainly better than the _he's wherever you're not _that she'd braced herself for. "Will he be back here, after?"

Director Kingsley stared at her for a long time, his expression unreadable. Mal knew she sounded like a lost child, that she was showing an obscene amount of weakness in front of this man, but her life was literally hinging on how the rest of this day panned out. "You know, Mal...my son is a better man than me. And very slow to anger. So much so, he's only raised his voice at me twice in his adult life. Both instances occurred over the last two months, and both of them related to you." He sighed, taking off his glasses to clean them. "I'm not blaming you, of course. But I'm not all that hardheaded. I've started to see how my biases shaped my view of you. How I was judging you on standards you couldn't possibly meet. He's helped me see that." Mal didn't know how any of this answered her question, but she was fairly certain it was meant as an apology. Her surprise distracted her for a few moments. "I'm not going to pretend to understand what happened yesterday. I do know that he cares about you deeply, however, and I get the feeling you're not the special kind of stupid that would let go of someone as genuinely good as him." Adam fished a set of keys out from a desk drawer and held them out to her. "The new safe house we'll keep you in for the time being. I'll have someone escort you there. And when he's done with his appointment, I'll send Ben your way."

As she took the keys from him, an unspoken truce was agreed upon. Mal didn't need his blessing, but it was much preferred to an arrest warrant. And however much of a hand the director may have had in denying her immunity the first time around, her current immunity status wouldn't have passed without him. She mumbled a quick, "Thanks" - a promise to tolerate him for the foreseeable future.

Now everything depended on Ben.

* * *

This safe house was a fifth-floor apartment on the east side, quite a bit swankier than Mal was used to. The furniture, the decor, even the front door, all of it soundly middle-class. The agent left Mal alone to explore the one bedroom flat. Two things caught her eye.

The first was in her bedroom. On the nightstand next to an alarm clock was a framed picture. The same one that used to hang on her bedroom wall in the Isle, and had traveled with Mal these last two months in a beat-up backpack. The same one that Ben had had in his file on Maleficent. A lump rose in her throat - not, for once, because of the memory of her best friend, but because Ben had intentionally put it here, for her, to make this place her home.

The second was in the kitchen. After Mal had familiarized herself with the rest of the apartment, she had nothing to do while she waited, her anxiety building again. It was less intense this time, though, as Adam also seemed to think Ben wanted to see her. She supposed she could pass the time by eating, and rummaged around in the pantries and drawers to see what food was there. The place was well stocked, which gave Mal the idea that maybe, for the first time in a few weeks, she could eat a fresh vegetable. So she opened the fridge.

At first, she was confused. An entire shelf in the fridge had been taken up by cartons and cartons of strawberries. Then she remembered, and that lump in her throat gave way into a full-out sob.

Mal didn't know why she was crying, but she was. She sat on the floor and buried her head in her hands. Waves of guilt and regret and all the emotions she'd been brushing under the rug for two months came crashing down on her. How could she have turned on him? The man who had killed her mother to save her life, freed her from years of abuse, gave her closure over a crime never brought to justice, spent weeks tirelessly working to protect her, brought her _strawberries _because he knew she loved them - why had she let a little doubt overshadow all of it?

_Because he's too good for you, and you know it. You're just a danger to him. He's better off without you, you worthless - _

"STOP!" Mal screamed out loud. Maleficent's voice in her head went silent. Mal wasn't going to listen. Not anymore. Ben had killed the real Maleficent, and it was up to Mal to kill the dark, insidious thoughts that allowed her mother to reach back from beyond the grave and ruin Mal's chances at happiness.

A knock at the door interrupted her triumphant moment. It had to be him. This was confirmed when Mal glanced through the peephole. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Yesterday, Ben had appeared tired, but the adrenaline from his excitement had kept him from looking as worn out as he did now. There was no smile. He leaned heavily on his cane. "You came back," he stated, for lack of anything better to say.

"Yeah." Her voice had again deserted her. Mal stepped aside and cleared her throat. "You should come in. I'm not supposed to keep this door open for too long."

"Right." He struggled through the bare minimum number of steps necessary to allow Mal to close the door behind him, and then squinted when he got a closer look at her face. "Have you been crying?"

Mal bit her lip. For all her anticipation, she didn't quite know what to say to him. "No," she lied. He raised an eyebrow skeptically, but Mal's next words were already tumbling out. "Ben, I'm sorry. I know that'll never be enough, but - "

He held up a hand to stop her. "Just tell me one thing. Did you mean those things you said yesterday, about me taking your life away from you? Is that how you really feel?" The fact that he seemed like he was dreading her answer made her feel a thousand times more guilty.

"God, no!" Her hands flew up to her mouth, as if she could retroactively prevent herself from spewing all those hateful words. "I was just...angry, and scared, and I'd never expected to see you again, and - and do you know how hard you are to _forget? _All I could think about was you, all the time, and I kept telling myself it would get better and stop hurting so much, but it only got worse, and then you show up and it's like those two months didn't even happen - but they _did_, Ben, and they _sucked_, and I thought I'd have to start all over and I just couldn't do it again - "

She was interrupted, mercifully, by Ben pulling her into a hug. Mal melted into the embrace, holding on as tightly as she could. If there were tears rolling down her cheeks again, she didn't care. She had missed him more than even she knew, and it was only now hitting her when she could wrap her arms around him and breathe in his cologne and feel the beating of his heart against her chest. "I'm so sorry, Ben. I'm so, so sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." He'd buried his nose in her hair and planted a kiss on her head. The slow stroke of his hand on her back was so soothing. "I didn't think, Mal. I really didn't. I was so obsessed with wanting to see you, I didn't spend a second thinking about what you'd been through, or if you would even trust me to not double-cross you again. But after...I spent so much time thinking about what I should've done differently - thinking maybe I should've left you alone like you asked me to."

"No!" She pulled away so he could see how resolute she was - but not too much, because there was no way she was leaving his arms anytime soon. "Whatever happened at that sting - it doesn't matter to me anymore. You've done so much for me, and if you hadn't I'd still be in that motel room, miserable - or dead. I don't know what made you decide to come after me, but I'm really, really happy you did."

"Mal." He lifted her chin with one finger to ensure she kept looking at him, fixing her with an intense stare that turned her knees to liquid. For once, Mal didn't feel the need to shy away from those hypnotizing blue eyes, allowing him to keep her spellbound. "I did it because I'm in love with you."

One short, but rather embarrassing, sharp intake of breath later, Mal blushed. "You know I'm more confused now than before, right?" Ben chuckled and rested his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and wondered if she'd been sharing that feeling all this time, but had been afraid to say so out loud. "I'm in love with you," she tried, so softly only someone as physically as close to her as Ben could have heard. The way the words rolled right off her tongue and the way he kissed her after she said them made her realize that yes, that was _exactly _what this feeling was.

* * *

Once they'd settled comfortably on the couch to spare Ben's leg, Mal hesitated for a moment before laying her head on his shoulder. It was his other one, she remembered, that had been grazed by a bullet so many weeks ago. "Does it hurt?" she asked, gently placing a hand on his thigh.

He wrapped an arm around her, inviting her to get closer. "Not anymore. It just gets tired quickly, and stops moving the way I want it to. But it's definitely better."

"And your shoulder?"

"That was just a scratch. No damage done."

"Good." Mal had thought back to that day many, many times - the image of Ben lying in a pool of his own blood, unresponsive, pale as a ghost, haunted both her dreams and waking moments. He had come too close to the fate that had befallen Evie. She suppressed a shiver. "I never thanked you for saving my life."

"Well, you saved mine. I'd say we're even," he joked.

She looked up at him. "I mean it, though, Ben. I'm not good at this stuff so it probably won't come out right, but the only reason I had to save you was because you made yourself a target when you shot her. I know she would've killed me. She wouldn't have thought twice about it. I was never anything more than a pawn to her."

Ben gave her a comforting squeeze. "You know..." he began slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure he should say anything, "Yesterday, when I was leaving the motel, I did think that there was a chance you hated me for shooting Maleficent. She was a sociopath and a murderer, but she was still your mother."

Mal shook her head. "I didn't hate you for that - or for anything else. Actually, when I realized she was dead...I didn't even feel sad. Not for a second. I don't know if that makes me a sociopath too."

"You're not," said Ben firmly. "You're absolutely not. She doesn't deserve to be grieved over. I mean, obviously, if you needed to grieve - I'd understand. But that doesn't mean she deserves it."

"Yeah." Mal stared off into space, relieved that Maleficent's voice stayed silent. Then her tone hardened. "I hope she knew, at the very end, what I'd done to her. I hope for just _once_ in her life, she was _scared_ of something_ \- _"

"Hey." He cupped her cheek, his face so close to hers that their noses almost touched. His caress cooled the vengeful fire that had sprung up in her all of a sudden. "She was always scared of you, Mal. Scared that the day she lost control of you, she was done. And she was right. Everything she worked for is destroyed."

He'd told her this before, that she was the only one who could take her mother down. And she'd had that belief reinforced by how quickly the Dragons' empire had crashed after she had decided to resist. But she most certainly could not take all, or even most, of the credit. "Thanks to you." She took a deep breath, pecked Ben on the lips, and beamed. "But let's not talk about her anymore. She's gone, and you're here. That's all that matters." His hand froze on her cheek. He gazed at her strangely, and for a moment, Mal thought something was wrong.

"I've never seen you smile like that before," he murmured, stroking her skin again. He leaned in for a deeper kiss. "You're really beautiful, Mal. I can't tell you how many times I had to stop myself from saying that to you."

"Really?" Mal didn't quite know how to respond to that. This whole "receiving compliments" thing was going to take some getting used to. She looked down at her hands, feeling her ears burn. "Like when?"

"Whenever we talked." He'd clearly noticed her ears - he planted a kiss on one. "Whenever I felt like you didn't know."

"Oh." Her mind had gone all fuzzy, her stomach was doing flips, and she couldn't think of a single coherent sentence. So she just reached for his free hand and laced her fingers through his. Should she say thank you? Or that she loved him? Or how she thought every single thing about him was beautiful too? No, she would physically cringe if she said that. So instead, she stuttered, "Do...do you have to leave? To go back to work?" Damn it, that sounded like she was trying to get rid of him. It was the worst possible answer, she was such an idiot -

"Mm, actually..." Ben shifted, looking away.

"Or can you stay?" she added quickly. Not the most graceful save, but at least it was more along the lines of what she was trying to express. She just wanted more time with him.

"I've sort of...been fired."

Mal's jaw fell open, and all her awkwardness disappeared in an instant. "_What?!_"

"Technically I quit, but it was a pretty mutual breakup, to be honest." He shrugged, smiling apologetically. "Shooting Maleficent ended up causing a firefight, and a lot of agents got hurt - including me, and obviously I can't work as a field agent anymore anyway - plus, some of our suspects got away. It was a huge breach of protocol, the kind of thing people get fired on the spot for. But my dad convinced the higher ups to let me fix things and find you, on the condition that I would leave once I had - it was pretty blatant nepotism, actually. Anyway, I was more than happy to, because my work with the ACIA is done. The Green Dragons have been dismantled. There's nothing more I can do for the Isle from that office."

"But then...what happens next?"

"Honestly? I was thinking about getting into social work or starting a non-profit. I think the next step in rebuilding the Isle is going to need a lot of people invested in its future, and I'm pretty invested, at this point." He chewed his lip uncertainly. "What do you think?"

She was silent for a few minutes, processing the bomb he'd just dropped. She knew he'd dreamed of lifting the Isle out of the abject misery his father had plunged it into, but she hadn't realized just how badly he wanted to help. And he would be perfect for it - kind, compassionate, but smart as a whip and a natural born leader. The Isle needed people like him. "It's...it's a good idea. A really good idea."

"You think so?"

"Yeah." Mal grew more confident the more she thought about it. "No one in the Isle is going to know what to do with the Dragons gone. This is the best time to change everything. And you're right, what would a bunch of cops or feds do? They're not going to give people food. They're not going to make kids stay in school. And they're definitely not going to stop treating people from the Isle like criminals." He relaxed - prematurely, as Mal had fixed him with a stern look. "But you're not going within a mile of that place without me."

"I thought you might take issue with that," admitted Ben. "We'll see how safe you are, and then we'll decide - "

"You are _not_ going there without me_._"

"The Dragons don't run the - "

"I don't care."

"Mal - "

"_No._ There are smaller gangs that are going to start trying to take over, and you make an easy target - you can't even run right now! Besides, a lot of those Dragons had kids, and maybe the kids are unhappy their parents are in jail."

"As long as I'm smart about it - "

"How can you be smart about it when you're already being so stupid?" Mal exclaimed in frustration. He fell silent. "Ben, please. Part of the reason I'm glad you're leaving the ACIA is because you won't be getting shot at anymore. Why are you - why would you - just - " She was now so worked up, her thoughts were moving faster than her mouth could articulate them.

Ben turned to her and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I get it, Mal, I do. I don't want you to be in any danger either. Let's come back to this in a month - regardless of what we decide, I'll need time to get this initiative off the ground. But in that month, I'll wait for you. I won't go to the Isle and neither will you. Okay?"

It was only a temporary fix, but Mal supposed she could just throw another tantrum in a month to keep him from getting himself killed. Whatever it took. "...Okay."

Satisfied, he leaned back on the couch again. "And in even worse news, this'll come with a pretty massive pay cut. So I won't be able to spoil you the way I want to."

That made the corner of Mal's mouth twitch up. "Like with the strawberries?"

"Oh! You found those already? I wanted to surprise you." She was glad he hadn't, seeing as her initial reaction had mostly been uncontrollable sobbing. "I hope there's enough for us to share."

She smirked. "Not a chance." At his mock pout, Mal draped her legs over his and cradled his face in her hands. Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "But thank you. I'm _really_ going to enjoy them." A kiss from her quickly turned his frown upside-down. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist and he made the most delightful noise when her fingers tangled in his hair. "I love you." When it just came out like that, unprompted, unplanned, it sounded perfect.

"I love you, too." Ben very quickly tried to swoop back in, but Mal pulled back.

"I have a question." He paused and waited. "Are we being recorded?"

Ben laughed.

* * *

Three months later, Mal had discovered a love for all things sweet - not just strawberries - and baking for breakfast had become the norm. Ben sat down to his favorite croissant sandwich and a blueberry muffin. "Did you want to check out that apartment on Fifth today?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Mal answered, popping the last of the muffins out of the pan. "We're already working at the community center and stopping by that possible job you wanted me to check out. I'm not sure how much time we'll have."

"Okay. We'll play it by ear."

She raised an eyebrow as she sat down at the table with him. "You're still not going to tell me what the job is?"

"Nope. But I think you're going to love it." He grinned, which still had the effect of calming her fluttering nerves. Mal had never held a job before. But now, with her safety all but assured by the ACIA, it was time for her to move out of the safe house and start earning an honest living for herself. The thought alone was daunting. She had no idea how to function in a law-abiding society, but she was learning more every day.

Part of her education was taking place along with members of her old community. Ben and Mal drove up to her old house - all the way, even though there was still a chance of cart parts being stolen. Ben had left his cane at Mal's, against her wishes, since his limp had improved significantly. His leg still dragged a bit behind him when they walked up to the front door, but it didn't hamper him as much.

Mal's home had been transformed, and was completely unrecognizable. The outside had been painted, the lawn weeded, and a sign had been put up - _Welcome to our Community Center!_

Inside, multiple children were in the living room working on crafts - and getting paint everywhere. In the dining room, a cooking class was underway. Mal watched Carlos garnish his soup with a couple of mint leaves, and smile to himself.

The two of them continued through the house, to the backyard. Mal still had an imposing presence for those who remembered her past misdeeds, and even when Ben was with her people gave them surreptitious side glances. She didn't let it bother her - it helped that she hadn't seen how friendly some of the kids were with Ben when she wasn't around. Instead, she opened the back door to look upon her favorite part of the community center - Evie's Garden, a plot of vegetables and herbs being used to supply produce to the Isle. Small green tomatoes and bright red chilies caught her eye. A tiny basil plant was reaching up out of the soil. The telltale freshly uprooted dirt over an empty patch was where they had planted radishes and carrots the week before.

"I can't get over how amazing this looks," Mal mentioned to Ben.

He squeezed her hand. "And the fact that people are taking such good care of it - it's really inspiring. I think we're really getting our message across." Ben had been tirelessly working against the pockets of gang violence that had sprung up in the Green Dragons' absence. Education and support came more naturally to him than law enforcement. He was obviously happier, and that made Mal happier.

Mal spent some time with the kids in crafts while Ben got a pulse on the happenings around the community, as the children were the least likely to be stubbornly terrified of Mal. A few hours later, following a lecture on gun safety, Ben and Mal took their leave.

"Please tell me," Mal pestered.

Ben just smiled. "Let's just say...you haven't met my mom yet."

Her stomach dropped. "Oh no, Ben - not another one of your parents." After her treatment at the hands of his father, she had been loathe to go near Ben's family again. It was not all that fun to be constantly reminded of how Adam used to - and maybe still did - think Mal was nothing but a criminal.

"I promise. I _promise_ you'll love her."

Mal groaned and complained all the way to their destination, while Ben just wore a mysterious smile. He parked outside of a library and turned to her. "Listen, Mal. You've had a tough life. Tougher than anyone else I know. And I thought that something a little...quieter...might be a nice change."

She nodded slowly. By this point, she was aware of how well Ben knew her. If he thought this was a good idea, she was willing to give it a shot. That didn't entirely alleviate her anxieties, however.

That happened when she was face to face with Belle Kingsley.

Ben's mother was a pretty, middle-aged brunette with smile lines by her eyes and her mouth. Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, and her clear-rimmed glasses sat low on her nose. She had a stack of books in her hands, but set it down on a nearby desk so she could quickly hug Mal. "It's so lovely to finally meet you. I've heard so much. And I hope you'll find a nice little niche here for yourself." So many things - among them Ben's kindness and his vocabulary - suddenly made so much more sense. "Let me show you around!"

Belle continued to blow Mal's expectations of her out of the water. She was just so nice, so _motherly_. Mal didn't even know how to react, except to throw sour looks at Ben's smug expression when Belle wasn't paying attention. "And this - this might be of interest to you. This is our GED section." She pointed to a shelf of review books and textbooks. "There's a quiet area just behind that row there where you can study, if you like."

At first, Mal was taken aback. She didn't often share with people that her dream, at one time, had been to go to college. Perhaps all Ben and Belle knew was that she had not graduated high school. But when she exchanged glances with Ben, who was giving her an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up, she could feel a heat building behind her eyes, and her heart ached. "I've...I've always wanted to get my degree," she said quietly.

"Well, that's wonderful! The library has a work-study program in conjunction with Auradon University. After you've worked here for six months - and in that time you could get your GED - I could help you apply..." The rest of her words sort of became a buzz in Mal's head.

_This is it, Evie. I know you're not with me anymore, but I'll be okay. I have people who love me now. I have a future. I have hope. I'm going to rise above my past, and I'm going to make you proud._

* * *

**Thank you guys for sticking with me through this one! Hope you enjoyed it. Take care!**


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